


The Fox and the Squirrel

by MK_Bloom



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Age Difference, Canonical Character Death, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Friends to Lovers, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lewd Hand Holding, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Slow Burn, War, Wet Dream, When Fire collides with Ice, but they're both dumb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 64,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21910081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MK_Bloom/pseuds/MK_Bloom
Summary: Hilda knows she's a slacker, 9.5/10 that's her intention and the other .5 comes from habit. How she got roped into becoming a children's book illustrator for Seteth, Goddess only knows. Not that she's complaining too much considering that Seteth just seems to get more attractive by the day in her eyes, which only leads to the source of intimidation coming from a wholly different place now. She doesn't exactly know what she's hoping to get at the end of attempting to pursue this (admittedly) crazy crush, but this time around she's going to give it her all.Post A+ Support.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic & Hilda Valentine Goneril, Hilda Valentine Goneril & Claude von Riegan, Hilda Valentine Goneril/Seteth, My Unit | Byleth & Seteth, Seteth & Alois Rangeld
Comments: 82
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in my disappointment towards the internet and to scratch an itch for this ship. Still debating on the length of the fic, but I do know the route I'm going. Bear with me, even when I did write fanfics years ago they tended to only be oneshots (also for characters/ships that got little to no love, oi).

“Hey, Hilda. Wanna head out into town? I hear that more merchants are starting to pop up,” Claude leaned on the other side of her door.

“You know you can come in, Claude. The door’s unlocked.”

The door creaked as the unlikely leader of the Alliance waltzed inside, “hey, hey. Don’t wanna walk into anything, you could’ve been changing or something.”

“Afraid you’ll be frazzled by seeing a lady in a state of undress, Claude?” Her brows raised as she gave him a coy smile.

“A Lady? Where?”

“Oh, shut. Up,” she pushed his shoulder, getting caught up in his laughing. It was part of Claude’s natural charm, how easy it was for him to smile even in the middle of this stupid five year long war.

He gave a nod of his head towards the door, “so…? Wanna come with me?”

The offer to go slack around with one of her best friends was tempting, especially with that dorky look he gave her, “ugh, I can’t today. I’ve gotta lot of work to get done by this coming Saturday and I’m kinda behind enough.”

Claude wasn’t expecting that answer, “work? Are you prepping more for the final certification test. I guess the professor wants to push us to our best quicker,” he linked his hands behind this head. He, himself, didn’t have to worry about that too much given his position and skill level, sure there’d be the extra tutoring session but he was allowed early dismissal most of the time to focus on the other generals who were needing more tests. “You’re a shoe-in to pass, you’ve got like what? A B+ in flying already—oh but no wait—you need high lance too, right? What’s your grade so far?”

The expression on her face read two things: first, that the test wasn’t it and second, she’s just remembered that she needed to do that too. “...A D...” She knew she should’ve picked up a lance at least once before becoming interested in using wyverns. That plan to ditch the need for lances by picking that over a pegasus has bit her in the butt. _Off topic, we’re going off topic_. “But anyways,” she tried to reel things back and away from training, “it’s some outside work that I’ve picked up.”

Claude was really not expecting that answer, “ _you_? Hilda Valentine Goneril?”

She’d be a tad offended if she bothered to lie to herself a little, “yeah.”

“You?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You got yourself a job?”

She crossed her arms, he was being so melodramatic, “yeah. I did. And I’ve had it for a while, thank you very much. What do you think I do when I’m not doing war stuff? I’m not falling asleep around the monastery like Linhardt.” She stepped away from Claude with a huffed pout.

“I think he’s gotta condition or something,” noting the ability for the rouge Imperial mage to even manage to have a speed-nap in the perimeter of battle. The dark haired Lord focused his attention back to Hilda, “but wow, Hilda, this is so not like you. So what do you do? I _have_ to know.”

 _Humph_.

“C'mon Hil, don’t be like that. You’ve become a hard worker, I know that now,” Claude gave his best sad pleading face, even giving a little lip.

She didn’t even have to look at this idiot to crack a grin, “stop. I know you’re making fun of me, Claude! Ugh! Okay, okay. But you better not tell anyone else.” She took a step out of her door to check that there wasn’t anyone coming. She faced him again, clapping her hands together as she thought of how best to explain her task. Not that it was difficult, but she didn’t want any needless prodding that could lead to embarrassment. “I’m uh, working on a book,” it wasn’t a lie.

“A...book?” His green eyes looked unconvinced.

She straightened her posture more, “yeah, and it’ll be a great one too. We’ve been working _very_ hard on it.”

“We?” He grinned as he raised his brows.

“M-me and my creative partner, yes,” she could feel the heat rush into her face and no amount of make-up could hide that.

“Is there some _other_ work going on with this partner of yours??”

 _AAHHHH_! Her boot stomped on the rug as she waved her fists in fustration, “D-don’t you have some shopping to do, Claude?”

He could’ve easily put aside the shopping trip, the subject was far too interesting and he was especially curious about this second party, but he knew that if he pressed on anymore she would force him dig the information out the hard way. “Alright, alright, I’ll let you get to your work,” he rose his hands in defeat as he shook his head. He walked towards the door, “you’ll be at the dining hall around dinner time, right?”

“I’ll have to see, I’m not gonna be a lazy fox today,” she placed her hands on her hips and watched as he walked out of the room and waved when he turned half-way through the hall of dorms to see if she was still sure about not joining him. She shut the door, leaning her back on the door. She sighed, knowing that he was not about to leave her alone about all of the juicy details. Once Claude wanted to know something, that’s what filled his head space until he got answers. Damn it, she should’ve just told him that she was writing some terrible romance book with all of the worst naughty scenes. He’d get a laugh out of it and then he’d forget about it. Then again...knowing him, he’d be dying to read that too.

Hilda’s boots lightly clacked on her way to her desk, she sat down and rummaged through her desk drawers. She pulled out various small boxes which carried a toss-up of arts and crafts supplies, “Hilda, you need to organize your stuff,” she muttered as she picked out what she needed. Some pencils, paint, brushes, a small cup for craft purposes, and a ruler. In another drawer she pulled out a generous amount of paper and on top of the stack was a manuscript with notes written by herself. She flipped through the paper separating a specific portion of the rough draft, some ill defined sketches, some more complete drawings, and blank sheets.

Hilda pursed her lips as she examined her drawings. She’d be hard pressed to call any of this chicken scratch _art_ , yet after two already completed stories she has begun to develop a sense of pride towards her work. She even began to notice little improvements from one drawing to the next and surprisingly enough she wanted to get better than that. The image of Seteth’s light but sincere smile as he saw his stories brought to life with her illustrations flashed in her mind, she felt her heart beat quicken as she tried to subdue her sheepish grin.

 _Get a hold of yourself, Hilda. You’ve gotta finish four more pages, which you need to go to the library to get some more references, and maybe go to the forest to actually give these pictures backgrounds so the characters are not_ _always_ _in a void._ Who knew drawing could be so much work? Fortunately, she had enough time today and tomorrow to get everything done if she focused.

“Alright, Hilda! You’ve got this,” she punched the palm of her hand twice as if this project was just another bandit to squash.

* * *

The young-20-something checked herself for the third time on the mirror, it was her last chance to check, fix her make up, and insure that her hair wasn’t being a wild frizzled mess. With one hand she adjusted her bangs to properly highlight her slightly darkened eyebrows and eye shadow. On the other, she hugged the portfolio to her breast. She wished she had a better outfit to wear today, but thought it best to not go too overboard. Seteth is straight-laced, not dense. Besides, a girl shouldn’t blow all the stops just yet. Gotta get ‘im lured in a little more before knocking them off their feet. “A bit more lip gloss can’t hurt though,” the original coat was already wearing thin, “perfect.” She gave a wink of encouragement to herself before leaving the mirror.

According to the professor, Seteth should be over by the Saints’ statues at the Cathedral. Her heels clacked on the tile floor, she noted that the number of worshipers had started to grow more. An effect of Claude’s and the professor’s growing victories and confidence towards the church. She saw Marianne praying near the organ, and opted not to disturb her until after she was done.

Hilda whined, _why did the Saints have to be all the way in the back?_ Her pace quickened upon seeing that familiar navy blue and cape. “Seteth, hey!”

His careful hand paused with the scribbling and his eyes followed the direction of the unmistakable voice, with a single action of his hand, he closed his pencil into the small notebook and hid it away in his coat pocket. “Ah Hilda, good morning,” his stern brows relaxed to reflect his modest smile.

Her own smile grew and she felt it. She cleared her throat before speaking again.

“Is the weather treating you well? I hear that the shift of climate makes one prone to colds,” he mused. He was fully aware of all of her tricks and the type of deck she liked playing with. Although, there was a mild lightness in his tone this time around.

She played along with an innocent giggle, “haha yeah, I’m totally okay.” She pushed some of her hair behind her ear before going back to looking him in the eye, “I finished this Sunday’s story,” she brought attention to the portfolio she cradled.

“Excellent!” He beamed, “would you like to accompany me to my office?”

Her pink hair bobbed with her quick nod, “of course. Let’s go.”

He allowed her to take the lead before following beside her. His posture impeccable, as he strode with a silent confidence. He held his hands behind his back, as he gave Marianne a nod while Hilda took a side step to bid her farewell before pressing on. He led by example by walking straight and staying quiet out of respect of those praying inside, only moving his gaze when he was acknowledged and silently greeted them accordingly as to not disturb the other patrons. Once nearing the Cathedral’s gate, he focused his attention to the short woman beside him, “so tell me, how are you fairing with your remaining exams? You have improved much and I can tell you’re developing the proper bond with your wyvern. They’re not easy creatures.”

“Oh, nooo. They’re not. Sometimes Crissy snaps at me when she’s feeling fussy even when I feed her an extra treat or two,” she waved a hand as she rolled her eyes.

“’Crissy’?”

“Whaat? It’s short for Crystal and it sounds _so_ cute, y’know? And my cute girl deserves a cute nickname.”

“Mm,” he nodded unsure if he found the humor in the nickname or the fact that she found such rough beasts _cute_. Seteth has heard the term thrown around all the time when it came to the pegasi or the horses, it wasn’t quite the case with wyverns.

She began to acknowledge the bit of training she had a chance to do in the past five years over in her family’s territory, occasionally having to jump on her wyvern to help out around Fodlan’s throat or when rouges would try to stupidly invade their land as a result of the chaos the war has caused. She shrugged, “and to be fair I wouldn’t be that great in the first place without all of that group work we did together back in the academy before the war. I’m glad to have that occasional training session back again.”

“Heh, I remember that wasn’t the case the first time we were assigned for the task,” he watched her stammer as she attempted to back track on those memories. Such a lively and funny girl. He watched as she gave up with her own internal argument, and continued forward in the conversation. They both knew where they stood as far as how he appears outwardly to people. He remembered one year where a male student fainted upon his approach because that student knew he was the intended target. So he wasn’t particularly bothered over the fact that she faked falling off of a tree to push the airborne chores to another student.

With little push from himself, Hilda was back to smiling and laughing about some of the misadventures with the others in their ragtag army. Her radiating positivity feeding into his own relaxed smile. There wasn’t the expectation to speak so much or provide explicit advice on what to do or what the Goddess would think of their troubles. Those large pink eyes would always return back to his after a moment of hyperbole or dramatics with earnestness along with something else he may be misreading.

It was easy for her to talk someone’s ear off. Considering how nervous she was, she probably was doing it even worse than usual. Regardless, it looked like Seteth was being a trooper asking her questions of more depth or to continue with the story she was on. Occasionally he’d get a look of ‘huh, I didn’t know that.’ There was also the fact that although his gaze rarely left her, he was way more aware of their surroundings than she ever was. His hand would only leave his back to gently guide her out of the way of those passing by, obstacles, or even just a simple trailing off the path. The hair on her arms would rise with the slight brush of his fingers on her skin. This was so weird to her, he would barely even touch her and her body got the crying urge to just simply lean in on him or snatch his hand into her own. But she didn’t need to turn this into a really awkward walk just because he dared to be more mindful than she was.

“Hilda,” Seteth’s voice woke her up.

She followed his hand which pointed up, looked to the side of her and laughed, “OH, the stairs. Right.” She could hear her boots trampling beneath her, and his following in stride. Claude was right, she did sound like a monster stomping on the stairs—then again she’s wearing more of a heel than he is so that could be it. Yeah, she’ll blame that.

Once reaching his office desk, he outstretched his palm for the portfolio and took a seat behind his desk with it in hand. Instead of opting for a seat, Hilda chose instead to lean on the desk in an angle to get a good vision of her work and his expression.

She was so close to him that he easily picked up her scent of jasmine perfume mixed with the air of the sunny outdoors, nothing wrong with wearing perfume. It suited her nicely without being too harsh. Although, the way she was leaning... _Ahem_. He rose a brow to her as he gestured to pull up her dress top.

Hilda blinked for a second, looked down on her chest, “ooops,” she pulled up the top to try to lessen the severity of cleavage shown. Not that it was her fault that she was blessed. Must not be a big boob guy, considering most don’t complain about the view. She moved over to standing next to his chair and leaning in only slightly this time.

“Thank you,” he resumed what he was doing.

She held her breath. Following his green eyes as they looked over each page painfully slow, what didn’t help was the fact that he carried his usual business face. Tight brows, no expression, his lids only moving as a sign that he was scanning. This wasn’t a grade at all, but dammit after a full minute of nothing she felt like she was gonna get a D- on this. She knew she should’ve spent another day and that hare doesn’t have _any_ consistency when it came to ear size. Not to mention the color. Would he notice when she messed up with mixing colors? Smudges could be spotted. The tree on page 3 looks more like a warped noodle. There were so many mistakes that she could easily pick apart now that she was turning it in. She should’ve knew better to stray so far from her comfort zone. That always tends to be the case, right? Well, _he_ was the one who wanted her as an artist. She knew she shouldn’t have bothered and shrugged it off. Hilda tasted cherry as she chewed on her lip.

After finally setting down the last agonizing page she submitted those emerald eyes clashed with pink, “Hilda, did you draw this?”

Oh Goddess, she had to admit to this mess. “Y-yes, Seteth,” might as well take the screw up like a champ as papa always said.

He stood from his seat glowing, “you truly outdid yourself. There is so much character in the linework—and is this from the patch of woods by the east side of the monastery? You even have the color of the foliage right and how the color shifts to reflect the passage of time,” a large part of him wanted to go on but he held himself back and just opted for a hand on her shoulder and the biggest grin that has probably been hidden away for who knows how many years, “I am so impressed by you, Hilda. You did an _excellent_ job. Thank you.”

Oh Goddess, now she truly going to cry for completely opposite reasons. _Don’t cry you wimp. Crying is_ not _cute._ She was utterly failing in hiding her attempts to fan away her tears.

“Hilda, are you alright?” The sweet smile that he was giving her wavered and turned into a look of concern as he began to carefully rub her arms to hopefully help calm her down.

That was it. That was it. Hilda wrapped her arms around the green haired man, burying her head on his chest. “Y...yeah. I’m...just. So happy.”

She clutched to him so tightly, to say he was unsure how to approach the next step was quite the understatement. The only other person who has ever hugged him in the past hundreds or so years was Flayn. Even then, physical displays of affection tended to be more sparse than not. He could feel two erratic heart beats, hers and oddly enough his own. In these situations what else to do other than go with one’s intuition? He held her small frame in his arms. If anyone were to ask, he would be honest in his intention to console the girl. His fingers stroked her long pink hair, “as long as you’re okay. You did great. You really really did.”

Hilda sniffed and laughed a sob, “you’re _not_ helping, Seteth, but thanks.”

**…**

After she washed and dried her face, she stepped out of the washroom where Seteth quietly waited in his white dress shirt and his navy coat draped on his arm. When he noticed that she was out, that same look of concern shone on his face as he stepped towards her, “do you feel better?”

“Oh Seteth, I didn’t know you had enough worry in you for anyone outside of Flayn,” Hilda tried to wave away the embarrassment of getting her mixture of make-up and sobbing gunk on his favorite coat as well as forever giving him the impression that she was an emotional wreck. Quite frankly she had no idea why she was ever intimidated by him, he’s so sweet. “I’m fine, really. I guess I must’ve been overthinking over nothing,” her arms lazily swung to and fro.

“Overthinking what?”

She thought quick, “I’m doing absolutely _abysmal_ with lances. I don't think that I’ll ever be able to advance to Wyvern Lord by the end of this year.”

The older man doubted it was that simple yet, he gave a thoughtful look, “well, I know that the professor does not tend to focus on lances,” he didn’t even remember the last time he’s seen the younger teacher pick up a lance. “So if you need it, I could assist you in training. Also, do not feel pressured to devote so much time on the book. If we need to pause the project--”

“That’s not necessary. I think you helping me out with my lance studies would help a ton in freeing up that iky stress feeling,” she walked beside him on her tippy-toes with an innocent look to her face.

He felt that wall there again, he should know it considering he used a similar one himself. Similar, not the same. The sources are vastly different places. Never the less it served the same purpose and he was the last person to break them down. Still, it troubled him seeing the sincere girl from before arriving to the washroom locked back away somewhere.

The walk to her room was thick with silence. Hilda was lost in her own thoughts and Seteth was more on the quiet side anyways. What a mess of a day. She spent all that time on her make-up and trying to perfect her script to just mess up at the literal winner’s circle. “Well, here’s my door. Thank you for walking me to my room, Seteth.”

“Of course,” he gave a nod. “Oh and Hilda,” he caught her as she was opening the door waiting for her to face him again.

She hesitated and tightened her grip on the knob before turning back to face him, “yeah?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re not as bad as you think you are.”

Hilda opened her mouth, then closed it before her voice squeaked, “y-yeah, right. Okay. Thank you, Seteth.”

He nodded again before leaving her to her room. She waited until his footsteps became too far to hear before closing her door. She slid her back down and she hid her face in her knees. “ _AUGH!_ Am I so obvious to him?! _”_ How is it that she can attempt to slither through his mask and be bounced back, while in one look he can see through her so clearly? Hilda felt the heat on her cheeks as she processed the last couple of hours. All the compliments, his beautiful smile at her, his fingers running through her hair, his arms clinging to her.

All things considered, he was right. It wasn’t _that_ bad.

**…**

She was brushing the last of the knots in her pink hair when Claude busted in causing her to whirl around, “Claude, oh my God!” Then again, she was the one who told him that he could walk in whenever he wanted.

“Alright, who made my girl cry??” In one hand he juggled some treats from the dining hall and with the other he shut the bedroom door. He set down the peach sorbet bowls, “was it Lorenz? Please tell me it was, he was getting on my nerves so much today,” he punched the air as if he was a top rate brawler with the least convincing tough face ever.

“ _Your_ girl? I don’t know when _that_ was established,” she stood from her seat pursing her lips and melodramatically pointing her nose to the air as she went to sit with a crossed leg on her bed. Then again, with the amount of time they spent together who wouldn’t believe that they were dating?

He reverted back to his goofy looseness as he handed her frozen treat and a spoon, “you know I’m just messing with ya.”

Hilda carefully traced the chilled bowl in her hand while, “I didn’t think word would catch around so fast.” Stupid, since she knew if _she_ saw any of the other women ugly crying to the washroom, she knew she’d be the first one to jump at the chance to snoop for some good gossip. Oh, how the fates have mocked her.

“So what happened?” He was serious this time as he sat down next to her on the yellow rug. He stabbed the lightly melted sorbet with his spoon, “is it about the book you’re working on?”

She nodded as she plopped some of that much needed sugar in her mouth.

“Aw Hil...”

“They loved it,” she gave a shrug.

Claude blinked, “wait...isn’t that a _good_ thing?”

“YES. And I completely went ballistic and over reacted and made myself look absolutely nuts,” she waved the spoon and sorbet bowl in her hand in grand sweeping gestures. “UGH! It’s so frustrating because I knew if he hated it, I _wouldn’t_ have cried—probably been upset. Yeah. But not _one_ Goddess forsaken tear would’ve left my dry eyes and I would just go back to my jewelry making and continue living my best life not needing to cater to anyone—sans the war bit but you know what I’m saying!”

“I do,” he nodded as he ate.

“And now I’m all like, ‘oh my God, I’m working with this person and I’m going to fight along side them.’” Another stupid thought just popped into her head as she sarcastically grinned, “OH, and I’m going to train with them too. Who knows how many of the others are like running around thinking I just got the worst dumping like ever? I am such an absolute joke.”

“Bah,” he waved it away, “don’t worry about them. They’ll forget about it after a couple of days. Trust me, everyone has bigger things to worry about since the good ol’ academy days came to a screeching halt. I bet even your buddy will forget about it as well and you can move on like it never happened,” his fingers mimicked dust floating away.

She smiled to herself, although she doubted that Seteth was the type to literally forget anything, she appreciated the sentiment. “How are you not snatched away already, Claude?”

“Hey, I’m a busy guy. I don’t have time for doting on girlfriends or dating. Look at how tired I am putting up with just you.”

She pushed his back with her foot as she laughed, “Shut up!”

“So next time you see me sobbing my eyes out for whatever reason, you better bring me some chocolate cake, deal?”

She rolled her eyes as her smile never left her lips, “deal.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First training session unfortunately doesn't have attractive crushes sensually trying to "help you" with getting your weapon position right.

“Again. From position A.”

“A? Again? Can’t we move on beyond I dunno—C or something?” Hilda uttered exasperated as she loosened her grip on the training lance.

“You must always begin back at position A,” Seteth reiterated, “your footing is crucial to continuing forward.”

Man, she wanted her lazy day _so bad_. She had already plotted everything she was not going to do the morning before. _You’re the one_ _that_ had _to_ _bring up struggling with lances_ _._ This was going to be hard work right from the moment he walked up to her yesterday evening and said he had the time for their first independent session. The giddy noble had managed to lie to herself up until she stepped out of her door in her pink training outfit and remembered exactly _who_ was going to help her out. The only instructor who was tougher than Seteth was Shamir (or Jeralt if she was going by Leonie’s _fond memories_ ). “But doesn’t the footing not matter _as much_ since I’m going to be on my wyvern anyways,” she attempted to maybe place some logic into skipping forward and tried even harder to not sound like it’s a complete whine.

Seteth didn’t even bother to humor the thought, “Hilda, the basics of your desired weapon are your pillars to any true form of mastery or success. If you do not have a firm foundation, each and any added variable greatly hinders your ability to act as the situation calls for. From position A.”

“Fine,” she made a few steps back on the training room floor. Hilda looked down at her feet, trying to remember which foot that was supposed to go forward.

“Dominant hand.”

She positioned her right foot forward, “ _right_ , right.”

“Bend you knees slightly more, you want to make sure you have enough spring in your step. Remember, you want to be able to shift between defense and offense in the shortest amount of time possible. Adjust your feet as needed until you feel nimble yet grounded.”

“Nimble yet grounded,” her foot shuffled forward a little more.

“Yes, that’s it. Good,” he stepped a couple of paces back, “now, show me B and C.”

After a moment of pause, Hilda moved her feet forward and back while trying to keep that bounce Seteth kept reminding her about.

“Midattack.”

Hilda tightened her grip on the wooden shaft and lunged herself forward to strike the air. The fact that she was nearly tripping on her landing meant that he didn’t even have to say a word, “I hate this stupid thing.” Seteth looked like he was about to speak again, “no, no. Lemme _guess_. It’s my footing.”

This is what happens when you only teach a student theory and never practice, she may know what the parts of a lance are known as and some of the advantages or disadvantages of why you would use a lance over other weapons, but to have her actually use it? Well, she has a lot of gaps that need to be filled. “I understand it must be frustrating to learn a weapon you’re unfamiliar with, fortunately you’re not as far off from your current goal as it may feel like,” he said as he closed the distance between them, “take a short break and we’ll switch. Is that alright?”

 _Finally_. “Yeah, a break would be good,” she sighed as she handed him the training lance and opted to lean on a nearby pillar of the training ground.

Seteth held his chin to think of how to best get his point across, then he saw his answer walk in, “Ingrid, perfect. Right on time.”

The slender blonde blinked, “oh hello, Seteth. I’m right on time for what?”

He walked over to Ingrid, “I am here to help Hilda with her training. She’s having trouble with comprehending the footwork involved with lances and I believe it may be easier to grasp if she saw a demonstration. If it isn’t too much trouble, could you spare a little of your time?”

“If that’s all,” she gave a soft smile to the two of them as she nodded, “I would be honored. I’m here to train anyways and it isn’t often that I get to practice with someone like yourself.”

“You have my thanks. Please, choose a lance and we’ll begin shortly.”

At least this means that she won’t be required to mess with the lance for a little longer during this session. Who knows, maybe if she’s lucky she won’t have to pick it up again until the next training. Hilda thought to herself, her eyes followed Ingrid as she returned with her own proper lance. _Although, I wish it didn’t have to be her_.

“Now, I want you to pay close attention,” Seteth looked over to Hilda as he gave himself and Ingrid enough space. “Ready, Ingrid?”

“Ready,” she gave a single nod. There wasn’t a lag because she was looking down nor thinking about where she was standing, her feet just slid in their proper place.

“We always begin at position A, but don’t think of this as _step one_. Instead, think of this as your _idle stance_ ,” he began again, “from here you can freely move from B or C.” While still holding the lance in his hands, he freed a couple of his fingers to gesture to his partner. Ingrid moved forward as he moved back and back after several paces to keep in line with his steps, “you want to find that…” he took a second before plucking the word from his mind, “...tempo in your steps and in your opponent.”

Hilda perked up her ears as their motion began to take purpose in her mind, “tempo? You mean like dancing?”

Seteth smiled as he gave a nod, “yes, yes. Like dancing, you want to to be able to keep a rhythm and adjust it when needed.” He turned his attention back to the blonde knight before him, “now of course you won’t always begin this slow...” and as if in queue he quickened his pace, “...but once you are confident in your stance you will only need to think of your surroundings,” Ingrid eased a dodge, “and the opponent in front of you.”

Words were replaced by the clacks of their lances and the light patter of steps, at points it was like they didn’t make contact with the ground at all. Hilda watched mesmerized, trying to follow who had the upper hand on who. One would overtake the flow of their dance and there would be a strategic twist of their movements and the other would push them back to retake control. Ingrid carried over her natural grace when in action, like Seteth she gave an air of hyper awareness and control. Her gaze shifted into a higher level of intensity seconds before she struck forward towards an opening. Though before she could even backtrack her trajectory, with the precise working of his weapon she found herself unarmed and stopped by the tap of the wooden lance on her chest. The match had lasted perhaps no more than two minutes, but it felt so much longer and shorter at the same time. The short pink haired soldier was speechless for words she could only manage to get out a, “...wow.”

Ingrid gave a sheepish smile, “I didn’t even catch the moment I let go. Guess I still have more areas I need to work on.” She bowed, “I appreciate you bringing this to my attention, Seteth. This was very helpful.”

Seteth waved it off modestly, “you could have also done the same at a point or another during our example. Either way, I’m glad you came to the training grounds when you did. You may continue on to what you were doing, thank you,” he handed her back her lance and let her be on her way.

“Good luck with your training, Hilda,” Ingrid gave a wave.

Hilda returned the wave with an uneasy chuckle. _Damn it, why did she have to be so good?_

“Now that you know more of what you’re aiming for, are you ready to try again?” Seteth spoke with a composed optimism as he held out the lance for her.

 _I reeeeally don’t want to, but..._ She pushed herself out of her lean and tightened her ponytail as she walked to take back the training lance, “well, if it’s like dancing. _I guess_ I can figure it out. From position A?”

**…**

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” his voice drifted when he noted her instantaneous shift of mood upon the announcement, “I hope I was able to be of help to you.”

She dialed back her cheer as she rushed to his side, “yeah! Yeah, of course. Though, I don’t think I’ll be that great anytime soon.”

“No, but you were beginning to take shape during the later portion of our session,” he opened the door for her. “And I’ve seen you in battle enough to know you have the potential,” he brought her focus back to their growing number of expeditions and completed quests.

She averted her gaze to hide her pink face, “Heh, yeah.”

“Hilda! There you are!”

She was reminded how close the training grounds were to the dorm buildings.

“Good afternoon, Claude,” Seteth greeted him much to the Alliance leader’s surprise.

The young leader slowed his pace, “ _Heeey_ there, Seteth.” He put on his casual grin, “what’s a busy guy like yourself doing outside of your office or the church,” _or stalking Flayn_ , but he’ll be generous and leave that out.

Hilda interjected herself hoping to just get out of Claude potentially spilling everything, “well, he’s heading over there to his office now and ah, I was walking with him there.”

“What did you get into now?” He crossed his arms, puffed out his chest, and furrowed his brows, “don’t worry, Seteth. I’ve got this. _I’ll_ give Hilda a good scolding,” he took a big step to her and pulled her away from the religious man. He flashed her a wink before scrunching up his face again, “it’s my duty as the head of the Alliance to make sure my troops are in their _best_ behavior. I am glad you brought this misconduct to my attention.”

“I’m pleased to hear the sentiment, but Hilda is in no trouble,” he shook his head as he didn’t mean to cause any inconvenience. “In fact, she had confided in me that she was having a difficult time with lances. So I moved around some tasks to free time today for independent training,” he said with a note that he was delighted to see her take the initiative to practice.

The gears in Claude’s mind sputtered as he did a double take at both him and the internally screaming woman beside him indicating that he was _apparently_ misreading the signals completely. He rose his gloved hand with a finger pointed at the other man, “you look like a man of culture. Do you happen to,” he leaned in his boots with a shrug as if he himself was thinking he was crazy, “I dunno, enjoy writing or drawing in your spare time?”

Seteth gave a curious look, “...I don’t have the skill for drawing, but I write. Yes. I wonder if she had told you but, Hilda and I are currently working on a book of various children’s fables I’ve written for Flayn.” He rose a brow as Claude’s expression continued to twist a shade more, “is there something wrong?”

“ _Flayn_! I just remembered, I was needing to tell you about Flayn,” he saved with a snap of his finger.

Any questions that may have been there before were all overshadowed in milliseconds. “Flayn? Where is she? What happened? Is she alright?”

If nothing else, Seteth had obvious strike points. Claude slid by Seteth’s side as if to tell him a secret, “y’know I saw Sylvain giving her _the eyes_ a little earlier today. Very distasteful, I try to tell him to back off from your dear sister but you _know_ how people with his reputation are.”

There was a visible twitch of panic in his eye while the rest of Seteth stiffened.

“Last I saw him, he was over there by the entrance gate,” he pointed to the general direction with his thumb.

Seteth’s expression shifted into a mix of anxiety and silent rage, “if you’ll please excuse me,” he weaved past Claude carrying his dark cloud with him in haste.

The leader in gold watched as the other man left from view, _sorry Sylvain, your sacrifice won’t be forgotten_. When he turned, he was greeted by narrow pink eyes. She knew. Of course she knew. He dropped the act as he ran his fingers through his hair, “we need to talk.”

**…**

“ _Him_? Really, Hil?” Claude was at a loss for words for the simple fact that he had too many things to say all at once as he paced his dorm room.

“Don’t you think you’re over reacting,” she followed him with her head, her hands perched on her hips.

“How could I not when you’re telling me _that’s_ your supposed knight in shining armor? Your oh-my-god-he’s-so-hot-that-his-compliments-bring-me-to-tears? Please tell me it’s a bad joke and it’s actually Lorenz. Mr. Best Noble is great with lances and I’m pretty sure I just found his poetry notebook last week.” _Anyone_ else and at worse he’d have a good chuckle or two, Seteth didn’t even cross his mind for an instant when going through the mystery guy possibilities. He was over there in the heap of definitive rejects with Hanneman, Alois, and that one foot soldier who had a permanent smell of dried cheese. Hanneman would be slightly higher on the totem pole if only he was younger.

She got in the way of his pacing, “so what if he is? I can like who ever I _want_ , Claude. Just because you don’t like him, doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“I get that. Sure, not saying I don’t—But Rhea’s scowling _stooge_?”

“Seteth is _not_ a stooge!”

“OH, I completely misread his lurking around in the background or lecturing us on how we should all have unquestionable trust in Rhea and the church. Let me guess, you had a crush on Hubert too before he came out as an actual psychopathic nutcase with Edelgard.”

“You know better than anyone else that _I_ was the one who knew that they were up to no good way before even Monica came around.”

Okay, she was right about that. “I didn’t know he even liked kids,” he couldn’t believe this.

“If you bothered to actually talk to him, you’d realize he’s not a bad guy at all.”

“Oh yeah, cuz he lets _you_ all in,” Claude snapped and it didn’t sink in until he saw her eyes waver in their conviction. _Damn it_ , he reeled himself back with a deep exhale as he gave his eyelids a squeeze. This bothered him _a lot_ more than he was originally hoping.

“Hilda...” he bent himself to try to regain her avoiding gaze as he placed his hands on her shoulders, “you’re my best friend, my right hand, the best bratty sister I never had,” his honest smile flashed mirroring her slight chuckle. “If anything were to happen to you and I wasn’t at least there to _say_ something beforehand, I’d regret it forever. I’m not going to tell you to not talk to him, not train with him, nor to stop your project. You’re right. You can like whomever you want. Just please _be careful_ , alright?”

Her arms remained crossed as she followed his eyes, “so are you lying to the Knights of Seiros about being serious over finding Lady Rhea?”

“No,” he wished he was, “Rhea has questions that still need to be answered. I believe this war goes beyond just the Empire trying to overtake Fódlan and she knows exactly what’s going on with teach and those weird people who killed Jeralt. Besides look around, we need all the help we can get for right now. We’re not going to traverse the Valley of Torment for a tea party with Judith later this month.”

“Do you trust any of them?”

“Sure I do,” he straightened his posture as he removed his gloved hands from her shoulders, “Alois, Hanneman, Shamir.” Essentially any of them that could be properly looked into or weren’t so protective of the church or Rhea.

Out of all of the rest Seteth was the enigma among them. No records of his prior work history before coming to Garreg Mach and he instantly shot up into the high rank of Rhea’s personal advisor according to the few records that were found, no known family outside of Flayn who also seemingly popped out of nowhere after he was already involved with the monastery for a little over half a decade, not even a name to identify his lineage though he carried a prestigious major crest. He was someone who kept a thick mask as well as someone who went out of his way to censor and hide texts from questioning eyes. Claude still carried the pages he frantically copied and hid from Jeralt’s journal before Seteth had found out and of course took away the original. _‘I used to think the world of Lady Rhea, now I’m terrified of her,’_ a line that he had read over and over in his mind since Jeralt’s death.

“You’re lost in your head again, Claude,” Hilda woke him up bluntly.

“Yeah, I just want to find the archbishop sooner than later,” the earlier he can be done with Rhea, the earlier he can be done with her questionable followers including Seteth.He trailed off a little more before turning back to her and switching gears to get rid of the dreary mood, “anyways, so we had our first real argument and nobody died, huh? Wanna go catch lunch?”

“I’m not going to get _that_ mad at you,” she adjusted her pink bangs. “I need to change out of my training clothes and _only_ if you don’t call Seteth anymore names,” she pointed.

There was a begrudging “ _fine_ ,” hopefully this was just a thing that fizzled out once she realized that the pursuit of such a man would be far too much effort anyways and that’s not discounting the concrete probability that Seteth just shoots her down no question. “You remember that one kid who had a massive crush on Rhea?” He asked as they made their way out into the hallway and towards the path to her room.

“You _borrowed_ the love letter from the professor and read it to the class, how could I ever forget?”

“I did??” He looked shocked that such a thing would ever be proposed.

“Yeah, you did.”

He shook his head with a grin, “man, I’m terrible. That guy was in the Blue Lions’ class, right? Wonder what he’s up to nowadays.”

Hilda shrugged, “dunno.” Who knew what became of a lot of their old classmates that didn’t return to the 5-year-monastery reunion these days.

* * *

“ _Ignatz_?” Hilda’s big eyes read over the notepad that the professor kept to organize his formations before heading out for battles. She took the book into her own hands and pointed, “professor, can’t you put me with I dunno someone else like Annette, Claude, or Seteth?”

The blank-faced young professor was unfazed by the notes missing from his hand, “Hilda. Have you hung out with Ignatz that much recently?”

What did that have to do with anything? “Uh, _no_.”

“Then you’re going to be Ignatz’s back up for this quest. Annette doesn’t need a partner, Claude is helping out Petra since she just passed her wyvern rider test a few days ago, and Seteth is Ingrid’s aid today,” he sounded like he had little care, but the tactician always made his choices with purpose.

“Can’t Ingrid and I _switch_? I can be Seteth’s aid,” she clasped her hands with the sweetest face she could muster and batted her eye lashes at Byleth, “ _plleeeassseee_ , professor??”

“No.” There wasn’t even the slightest shift in expression, “you and Seteth are high enough in your training and I need to make sure that I have my available fliers in top shape for Ailell.”

“Ignatz isn’t a flier, though!” She stomped her boot on the dry grass.

Byleth’s mint eyes slowly shifted to the meek speckled soldier who stood well enough away from their conversation and was too preoccupied with his current sketch to even know that he himself was also a subject at the moment, “true. But he needs all the help he can get,” if Hilda had stayed incredibly still and focused hard on the stoic man in front of her she may have noted the thinnest sigh. “Besides, this is just a small mission to open up more roads to the merchants and those who wish to return to Garreg Mach. You don’t have to do much of anything for this skirmish. You should be happy.” With that the professor ended the conversation, “we will get into position in five minutes,” he rose his voice for the rest of the assigned troops to hear, “this is the last time to double check your weapons. I don’t want to have to run to your aid because you need access to the convoy.”

There was the sound of shuffling around, the clink of steel and other metals as weapons were inspected. Bernadetta counting the number of arrows in her quiver and asking if she should get more in a panic. After a glance from the tactician, she was given the okay for now. Linhardt yawning something about being woken up from a good dream and just wanting to get this entire thing over with. Claude giving a satisfactory pat on Petra’s new-to-her wyvern to signal that she’s good to go before turning to get on his own. Lorenz adjusted himself on his black horse, while asking if Lysithia was doing alright after the long walk to which she responded in a huff. Annette quietly manifesting a practice spell par typical of her before battle prepping.

“I guess I’m working with you this time, Hilda!” The twiggy priest-archer made his way over to the only slightly shorter woman. “Let’s go out there and do our best today,” Ignatz grinned, at least he didn’t look like too much of an 11-year-old anymore.

Hilda leaned back and forth in her heels, “ _guess we are_ ,” she breathed absentmindedly. Her annoyance over the pair-ups continuing to simmer as she watched the wyvern lord and falcon knight a distance away already having what seemed like a more pleasant time than she knew she was going to have from the corner of her eye. She shook her head to push away those shallow thoughts and conceded that it was just a temporary arrangement. “Ready to go, Iggy?” She placed a foot on the stirrup of her saddle before hoisting herself up on the winged reptile.

“Alright everyone, trudge carefully. I don’t want anyone getting injured over a small group of bandits, Ignatz I want you in the back, away from enemy range, and picking off stragglers when you _can_ ,” Byleth didn’t even have to look at the area map he carried, the instructions were almost always the same for him at this point. The hidden implication there for the remaining group to help feed in those stragglers.

“But, uh, Professor. Shouldn’t I be getting more in since Ignatz already reached his benchmarks,” the short red-head warlock rose her hand.

“You’re fine, Annette,” he replied flatly. “Get into position and remember: if any of you force Linhardt to kill someone to save you or himself, you’re carrying him back to the monastery and writing a 1,000 word apology letter, clear?”

“Teacher’s pet,” Claude muttered shaking his head to this odd rule for the green bishop alone that had carried over since he left the Black Eagles for their class years ago.

With the signal they were let loose.

**…**

As the professor said, Hilda did a whole lot of nothing other than hovering nearby Ignatz. Occasionally a conversation would pop in and out because she was so bored. She lazily traced one of Crystal’s large scales with her finger while he complied with the professor’s orders to heal someone from a distance. Who, she didn’t catch. If she was going by the tone, it was nothing serious anyways. More for the practice than actual need.

“So how’s the family business doing, Iggy?”

“Oh, they’re fine,” he only looked up at her for a moment before putting his focus back to the field, “my folks aren’t making as much since the war makes travel a lot more restrictive, but they make do, y’know?”

“Makes sense,” they moved forward down the road. She didn’t understand Ignatz, he was so not knight material and he knew this, yet he still pressed through with this crazy notion when the professor allowed him.

“So have you messaged General Holst recently?”

“ _Ugh_ don’t remind me, my big brother is sending me letters _every day_ now since I told him and my parents that I was going to be fighting with Claude and the professor,” if you asked her five years ago where she’d be at this point in time, she’d say at home to be pampered while her brother did all the fighting or married to some rich Noble and spoiled there too—“Ignatz! Look out!”

The merchant son had to snap out of completely paralyzing himself in shock and he dodged the swing of a silver gauntlet, “ _I_ _can do this_ _!_ ” He mustered about as much magic energy in him in a panic to take down the crazed brigand who rushed towards them with subzero ice.

“Yeah! There you go, Ignatz!” She cheered in relief as she sat back down on her saddle. Guess they went a little too far into the enemy range, _oops_.

“Good. Good,” Byleth caught up with them looking as surprised as he could to have his expectations exceeded, “you didn’t get yourself snapped in half.”

“Ignatz, are you alright?” Ingrid’s pegasus flew in with Seteth’s wyvern not too far behind, the sound of trotting landed on the dirt road near them.

The bowl haired soldier still looked out of it from successfully stopping the sudden attack but he nodded, “I’m okay. Thank you for checking in on us.”

The blonde calmed for a moment before turning her eyes to the pink flier, “it’s your duty to be watching out for these sorts of things, Hilda, _not_ daydreaming! The professor gave you orders to keep away from enemy reach _specifically_.”

“Hey! That guy totally popped out of nowhere, okay? And we’re _fine_ , we didn’t get a single scratch on us.”

“You can’t depend on lucky shots all the time. I would like to think you’d learn that by now or are you still going to maintain the same careless attitude towards all of this?”

Hilda felt the increasing urge to jump from her seat and tackle the other woman off her pegasus, “ _I care!_ ”

“That’s enough,” Seteth intervened once he realized that Byleth wasn’t going to be bothered to. “Ingrid, we were not here to witness all that happened to place total blame on anyone, for all we know that brigand could have been hiding in the woods that surround this path. We cannot change what has already passed and must use this as a lesson for all of us to not dull our senses even when taking on seemingly simple missions. And it’s a mistake that won’t be made going forward, right Hilda?”

“Right,” she lowered herself back down on her wyvern. “I’m sorry, Ignatz.”

Ingrid still had plenty that she wanted to say and probably will still say at some other point, but left it for what it was for now.

The professor clapped his hands once, “okay, just got the signal from Claude and Lorenz. That was the last of them. Good job everyone. We’re done here and can head back to the monastery while the group responsible for clean-up takes over here.”

**…**

Seteth’s pen strokes did not match his unease after his conversation with the professor. Clean and crisp, the black ink failed to replace the thoughts swirling in his mind.

_“I know I can trust you to deal with this kinda stuff.”_

Ah, yes. Like he can be trusted to be rebuilding Garreg Mach in the background, sending hidden messages to alert the other branches of their return in an effort to possibly get in more supplies as well as to maintain communication. Gathering and organizing the reports from Shamir’s private missions, looking out for anymore possible attacks from the Empire or leads on Rhea’s whereabouts. Taking account of their limited inventory to insure that they could remain sustainable. Being the spiritual and a moral support. As well as lending his strength to the army proper. Ailell will fortunately bring much needed reinforcements, but with it more heads to take account of. Now he’s the person next to Claude responsible for keeping the peace between troops just because he doesn’t believe in Jeralt’s philosophy of ‘ _just_ _fighting_ _it out_ ’ when it came to conflict? The young professor truly expects much from his ability to contribute. Though, the only reason the church official has yet to say anything was because there wasn’t anyone else available who could be sure to do such tasks competently.

“Hey there,” Hilda’s voice chimed from his office entrance. “I hope I’m not disturbing you or anything,” she noted the various charts and notes organized in little piles around his desk. Her heels clacked on their way to his desk.

He placed a perfectly elegant signature, “you’re fine,” he set down his pen then shook his hand from writing so much the past number of hours. He wasn’t much of a fan for the Professor’s preference for leaving the fighting to the end of the month where the most of all the other work had to be completed and triple checked in preparation for the next month. “Hmm?” Green eyes blinked once he looked at what she carried, “what’s this?”

“Lysithea was experimenting with baking cakes at the kitchen and was serving up slices to taste,” she held the tray with care, “Flayn had mentioned before that you tend to skip meals when busy, so I brought you some.”

Flayn had a proclivity to bring up his terrible habits even when it was wholly unnecessary, but his concerns weren’t on himself, “I hope there weren’t too many cakes being made.” He made a mental note to take that into account when counting over inventory.

“Oh no, there wasn't. Lysithea and Annette were very good about not going overboard or anything.”

Ah, good. “And the experiment?”

“I dunno, Lysithea said something about making good cakes that aren’t overly sweet. I was surprised too, but she said they were still too sweet and she’ll try again later. Don’t worry, Claude wasn’t allowed anywhere near the kitchen and they’re really yummy,” she giggled with that natural sparkle in her eyes.

“I doubt he would try anything with the next trip upon us. Better to be cautious, I suppose,” he nodded.

“Bah I don’t think he would either, but Lysithea doesn’t like taking her chances,” she set down the tray on the free corner of his desk and touched the tea pot before pouring a cup, “mm, the tea isn’t very hot and I didn’t know what tea you liked or if you wanted honey or not, but it should be drinkable.”

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness,” he couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, “I’m sure the tea will be fine.”

He caught a glimpse of that odd note in her eyes again, “of course, I felt so bad since I didn’t get a chance to properly thank you on Wednesday for helping me practice.”

He did leave in such a hurry that day, didn’t he? “Don’t feel the need to trouble yourself over that, I’m glad to help where I can,” which reminded him and he looked over at his calendar, “are you available Tuesday at 10:00? I want to get another session in before we embark for Ailell.” This should be an easy mission to retrieve the reinforcements from Judith, but one never knew what groups they may encounter while traveling for several days.

She looked up for a moment as she tapped her chin, “mm yeah, I’m pretty sure I am.”

“Are you?” He gave a light blow before taking a sip of the tea.

She looked at him with more certainty this time, “yeah, I am. Tuesday morning 10, got it.”

“Do you need anything else,” he did end up putting in a helping of honey for the cinnamon tea.

Her pink hair swayed as she shook her head, “nope, I’m good. I’ll let you get back to your work. Good night, Seteth,” she walked a couple steps back.

“Thank you again. Good night, Hilda,” he watched her leave his office. He smiled to himself, feeling that this small break from the busyness was just what he needed tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought the scene where Claude finds out was going to be hilarious, instead he ended up getting mad. Makes sense when thinking about it, wouldn't be all excited about it either if I was in his position. 
> 
> I also don't know about any of you, but for the life of me I can't get Ignatz to be useful. I accidentally killed him in my first VW playthrough and I have to baby him every time I bring him to the battlefield in this run even if he's a higher level in the field. Can't one turn kill to save his life, while getting OHKOd by everyone else. He did actually crit a couple of times in this specific quest with Hilda as adjunct though and I was like "yay! You're not useless this time, good on you Ignatz." 
> 
> Debated including Ailell in this chapter, but felt like it would end up too loaded and I'm happier with where the chapter ends instead. So that will be next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle of Ailell isn't the fight to try to show off your skills.

Seteth remembered Ailell. Back when it was lush and green. When there were children laughing and patrons bargaining with merchants. He, his sister, and brother would travel there with Mother occasionally during their celebration of the first spring blooms. She would always speak of how Ailell had the best parties and dancing partners. The music would fill the city to the wee hours of the morning and at some point he would fall asleep while she held strong in her desire to drown herself in the life of it all. He would awaken after the pestering broke through and she would be there ruffling his hair before forcing him up by pulling him to dance.

She was deep in her slumber when the tragedy happened. Flayn was small when word spread to his home. They didn’t know at that point that this freak occurrence was a prelude to something much worse. Mother would never wake up to discover what became of this place. In time she would be blamed for the massacre, proper punishment for the sins that must’ve transpired here to anger her.

He’s tried for years to dispel that story, but at a certain point it became accepted as a part of history and there would be too many dangerous questions that he would need to answer. Rhea chose not to fight it, she would justify letting the rumor continue. Saying that they wouldn’t want to invite the idea that there are people out there with power that can and has rivaled the Goddess, to see this as advantageous in giving others more of a reason to obey the laws of Serios. Thus, another layer of protection.

“It shouldn’t be too much longer now,” he could feel the bitter atmosphere cling to his skin, just over this hill and he would be back in this hellish grave. He had watched the shift of expression of the group of soldiers below and flying beside him start to waver quicker as they went deeper into the heat than before when it was just the distance they had to deal with. They were fortunate though, so far they’ve had a smooth trip getting here. There was a nagging buzz in his mind that he couldn’t quell. Inherent pessimism towards anything going _too_ well? The memories of unfortunate truths? Either way, because of the temperature alone they did not want to spend too much time dwelling in Ailell.

Seteth gave a delicate tug and pat to calm his wyvern who wished to land elsewhere, but from the sounds of it, the wyverns were the easy ones. There was distinct neighing from Ingrid’s pegasus, he could hear the contact of hooves then the flapping of wings as they refused to be grounded. The horses didn’t have the same luxury.

He scanned for a sign of the woman who headed House Daphnel and her troops in yellow. _We’re early_ , he supposed.

“Ugh. Why is it so hot...I’m getting sweaty,” Hilda began breaking the silence between the other troops with irritated complaining.

“Don’t be a wimp.”

“Back off Raphael, you’re making everything even hotter,” Leonie increased her distance from the very large man.

“You’re handling this well, Félix,” Ingrid commented with a moderately amused smile.

The sword user grumbled, “as well I can in this damn clothes,” he had already peeled off his blue coat and gloves, “where is she anyways? Don’t tell me we’re going to have to wait an hour for her to get here.”

“Fire, why is it always fire?? We were dealing with fire last month, doesn’t anybody understand how flammable I am? _Oooohh_ , why couldn’t I have stayed in my room?”

“Let’s calm down everyone, once we meet up with Judith we can go back home,” Ignatz tried to quiet the increasing fustration within their circle.

This is unfortunate, how far off is Judith? Perhaps they should travel ahead and meet her on her way here.

“Oh! I remember,” Marianne spoke up, “the legend goes that this valley was born from the wrath of the Goddess.”

It was inevitable for the conversation to head there, it was more surprising that the subject took this long. Maybe it was a result of the common underestimation of the scale of destruction. The years had made him used to the talk. He listened on to the accounts given. _Pillars of light_ , that’s all the immensely fortunate travelers to survive witnessing the destruction described. It was unknown by even himself what those pillars even were considering they hadn’t been used since.

“So you’re telling me that this supposed _benevolent_ Goddess burned this place to a crisp? Typical,” Claude sneered.

_She didn’t._

“That’s what the legends will have you believe, but it isn’t written anywhere in scripture—“

“So either the story is made up or the Goddess is some kind of monster,” Claude shook his head.

 _Would it be so hard to believe that there could be another explanation?_ _Others_ _with terrifying power?_ Her hands blamed for the blood spilled here. Towards people she loved so dearly. That’s the price for protection. A price Rhea and eventually himself were willing to pay. There was solace in his soul that there were still those who doubt placing her as the malicious actor.

“Huh?” Cyril looked up to the cliff side on the far edges of the Valley of Torment, “is that…?”

Seteth only needed to see the banner to understand what was going on. He hated when his cynicism won out. There must have been more spies Garreg Mach than originally purged. _Careless_. Now they were dealing with an ambush from the part of the Faerghus Dukedom whom allied with the Empire.

**…**

Ingrid flew high to get a layout of the Valley of Torment and the enemies’ movements, “this doesn’t look good, guys. Rowe sent over Gwendal and—it’s Ashe! Ashe must’ve joined house Rowe.”

“Ashe?” Claude wasn’t close to the former classmate but he was brought back to an early mission in their class days where they had to take out Lanato and his militia. That was his adopted father if he remembered correctly. No wonder he ended up siding against the church. “What are their positions, Ingrid?”

“Gwendal is located further northwest with paladins surrounding him, Ashe is moving towards the center closer to us with his own group of fortress knights and a sniper. I doubt either of us will be able to rush at each other, there’s fire and molten areas everywhere.“

The professor interjected, “we want to focus our attention to Gwendal, so we will making our path there. We want to reach him before Judith gets here with her men.”

“Understood, but there are snipers—a lot of them on the path straight to him.”

Pleasant. Just when they thought they were being smart by putting more of a focus on the fliers for this mission, they just put themselves in a disadvantage. Claude looked over to his tactician, “so what do you think, my friend?”

“Gwendal wants to die, so we will fulfill his wish by not wasting either of our time. The other soldiers should retreat once their hero is down,” Byleth spoke clearly.

The Alliance leader gave a grin as he shook his head clearly understanding the desire hidden within Byleth’s words. It was riskier to take the long way but if he thought that they can pull it off, “well if you say so, teach. Alright everyone, we know our target. So let’s get to it.”

There was very little time to prepare, within a few minutes they were mounted and ready. If it was up to him, he would’ve liked another minute or two to grab some more arrows. Ah well, worst case scenario he carried his relic and his iron ax didn’t look like it was going to break soon. “Petra, I want you with Shamir. Y’all are going to need to make sure you move quick. This place’s got severe burns written all over it,” he directed. Shamir and the professor led the first group by foot and horseback. “Hilda, Ingrid, Seteth, I want you away from sniper fire. Keep your distance until the snipers are taken out,” it does no good to cover more ground when easily shot down. “Lin,” he pointed to the bishop, “you’re our chief healer so make sure you’re on top of it, then it’s Bernie, then Marianne. If any of you find yourselves stuck, call Marianne she’ll try to stay close behind,” he flew as he called out the orders, “the rest of the orders from here I leave in teach’s digression. Be careful, my friends.”

The young leader in gold flew his way around his troops. Fortunately like Ingrid had mentioned, it seemed like the terrain made Rowe’s knights uneasy about moving ahead very far. Meaning that this battle was going on their flow this time. Or they’re actually more concerned with cutting off Judith and the reinforcements before dealing with his army. He was hoping for the former rather than the latter.

From the looks of it there were three sniper factions that were causing the most trouble for the group. Protected from the available warlocks and short range weapons by the lava pit blocking their access. So the group in front has their work cut out for them, arrows flying while the other soldiers also clash with their own weapons. The only way to them is all the way around or flight.

“Ready boy?” He looked over his wyvern, unsnapped the iron ax from it’s sheath and switched the steel bow for the ax. It would be a tight fight, but if he could take out two of the stronger snipers it would free up their movement a lot more. Being so close range he knew he could take one out without the other hoping for retaliation. Sure, there will be the rest to deal with but he’s been building up an exceptional track record for evading their shots. Besides, one doesn’t get up in life without taking risks.

Claude flew beyond the lava pit to easily head towards the sniper group and their battalions, there was a sudden rush he felt mid-flight. An odd familiarity? The feeling of the realization of there being more snipers nearby and being overwhelmed? He rationalized away the thought, _just the jitters for doing anything a little crazy_. He has done plenty before and came out just fine.

Taking out the first sniper was as easy as he expected it to be, but now he was in perfect range for the remainder of the group and there were more nearby than he was expecting. He really did it this time.

He was mentally preparing for the arrows to come raining in, he was not mentally prepared for the green-haired man to come jumping in from his wyvern and hacking a sniper ready to fire with a killer ax.

Seteth was too preoccupied on the task at hand to even notice, “Hilda, dismount _now_.”

“Got it,” she took out the other sniper who was unfortunate to be in her landing zone causing the surrounding opponents to flee.

“That’s one faction but there are more, Ingrid should catch up to us—“

Claude finally got his wits on him, “I thought I told you two to stay away from firing range until we cleared out the archers.”

“You did. Then you, yourself flew into said range without even bothering to release your wyvern,” the taller wyvern lord responded simply. “Now isn’t the time to discuss things. Please don’t be reckless,” with that Seteth headed the other way to assist Hilda with the enemy soldiers.

 _Damn it, I hate this guy. Just_ _call me an_ _‘idiot’ and be done with it._

Claude took out his bow, pulled out an arrow from his quiver, and went on sniping soldiers from the air. The rest of the grounded army was having an easier time now that the arrows from the other side had significantly lessened.

“Damn it, Judith is here,” he knew the thin brunette anywhere and she had also caught the attention of the Gray Lion. The stubborn general and his group of men finally dared to move, “Ingrid, update.”

“They’re moving in for a clash. Ashe is also heading towards Judith and her men,” Ingrid reported.

The professor stepped forward, “we have to stop Gwendal and the other knights, we can’t afford to lose our reinforcements.”

“I hear ya loud and clear, teach,” Claude gave a two finger salute and just focused his attention to reaching Judith. Behind him he could hear the whistles from the other wyvern handlers to call up their ride. Luckily this time, there were no fears of getting shot at by arrows so he can just crash in.

This wasn’t good. The old man wasn’t taking his time anymore and his men were already upon Judith and her army. Judith was keeping her own, but he could see that there were casualties. “You’ll stop here, old man,” the young leader cut off the knight.

The scarred proud man laughed, “I thought your arrogance ended when you dared to wave the Crest of Flames and now welp like you really expects to kill me?”

“That’s the plan,” Claude licked his lips as he fired two speedy arrows in succession.

The old bastard just continued his guttural laugh as he dodged and blocked the attack with his shield, “little twigs? Is that all, child?”

“ _RRAH!_ ” Hilda used the distraction to strike a blow with her hand ax from a distance.

The disoriented the man tried in vain to regain control over his startled steed before he was clean sliced off his horse with the same killer ax that saved Claude’s butt not that long ago.

The old knight looked up at the sky, a laugh returned shaking in his lips, “Ah...so I finally found a place to die...I thank you, young ones...”

“Must’ve felt stuck in the position he was in...” Claude mused to himself, a bitter reminder that knights were only tools for the heads of the houses that lead them.

“Gwendal is down! Retreat! Retreat!” With the amount of men lost and their hero slain, it was clear that this ambush was a failure. The knights in blue rush away from the Valley of Torment, the same way that they came. It was sheer mercy that some of them were spared mid-battle when the order was called.

Claude dismounted from his wyvern as he heard the growing celebration from the remainder of their army. Linhardt and the others who could assist with healing or first aid made their way through their expanding group to aid the injured. Ashe, when he was far enough away looked back for a moment in hesitation, frustrated or disappointed. Claude couldn’t tell which.

Byleth could be heard next to him, “good, I’m glad. He was always such a kind student,” he murmured to himself with a twinge of life in those empty eyes.

“I hope you’re not intending to have more crazy maneuvers to avoid every old face. I’d be even more impressed if you did,” he managed to grin.

The professor still looked at where the silver haired sniper once stood as he shook his head, “I won’t be able to.”

* * *

“Noo, stay still,” Hilda got up to follow the inconsiderate mutt again. The stray just looked up at her with those drooping brown eyes before turning her head, continuing on her way, and plopping herself on another sunny spot. “Stay,” she held her hand like if it was actually going to make a difference. “You’d think you’d be more cooperative. I could’ve chosen any other _lucky_ model for this Sunday’s story, y’know,” she commented as she glared at the dog.

Once she was sure that she wouldn’t get up, she lowered her eyes back down on the incomplete sketches, moving her hand over to an empty space to start another since her model changed their position _again_. At the very least, this wasn’t part of the final draft and just to best get the unique markings and shape of the dog. Why wouldn’t she include her favorite out of the monastery mutts? She loved how her fur had little spot patterns that made her look like she had freckles all over her face and ears. And the adorable curl to her tail. If dogs weren’t always so stinky and slobbery, Hilda would’ve cuddled with this girl all day.

“So you _are_ quite an artist,” Flayn’s sweet voice hovered just behind her. Her light green curls swayed just slightly with the tilt of her head. The younger girl originally couldn’t believe it when learning who was assisting her brother with his more creative endeavors.

Hilda couldn’t help but hide the unfinished work behind other blank sheets, “oh, I wouldn’t call myself that. I’m just y’know, trying to get these drawings right,” she shrugged. The chatting must’ve been too annoying for the lounging dog, because she got up again and began her trot elsewhere, “aannd there she goes again.”

Flayn looked at the dog and back at Hilda in embarrassment, “I apologize, I did not intend to startle your subject.”

“Nah,” the older of the two stood back up after placing the drawing tools into her pack and patted her dress straight, “she was most likely looking for an opportunity to escape anyways. So what’s up, Flayn?”

The petite girl fiddled with her hands as she lowered her voice, “um, well. I was wondering if we could go to your room for a cup of tea...”

“Say no more,” she wrapped an arm around her shoulder, “lucky for you, my big brother just sent me a package with our chef’s best cookies. You’ll absolutely _love_ them. They’re best with like a fruity tea, y’know?”

“...I do favor the sweet-apple blend.”

“Perfect! We’ll have some brewed up at the kitchen and bring the tray over to my room.”

**…**

After moving some of her art supplies onto her bed and setting up her personal tea set Hilda eagerly patted the open spot next to her, “c’mon, have a seat.” Hilda’s painted nails eased their way around the tin lid to open the delicately padded flower shaped cookies. She placed the tin case beside the tea pot, “help yourself, I have plenty.”

Little stars shined in her eyes as Flayn picked up a cookie, “these are simply lovely! So much so to even eat!”

Hilda giggled, “what good are cookies if you don’t eat them? Papa always says that the best compliment to your chef are happy taste buds and a happy tummy.”

Flayn broke off a petal and her grin grew as she ate, “ _mmm_. Your chef is exceptional, Hilda!”

“I’ll be sure to give him an extra note letting him know you said so when I write my next letter to my brother,” she blew onto her hot tea before having a drink. There was a light clink as the tea cup was placed back on the saucer, “sooooo. What did you _really_ wanna talk about, Flayn?” She gave an interested smile as she rested her chin on interlaced fingers.

She was already munching away at her second helping. “Oh, um,” she started anxiously, “I was seeking advice.”

“ _Abouuutt_??”

“I know you have more of an expertise with the opposite sex and—“

“Oh my god, Flayn,” Hilda squealed as she clapped her hands before getting serious, “so who’s this lucky crush?”

The junior turned a bright red as she waved her hands in fear for the wrong person passing by Hilda’s shut door, “ _shh_! I do not want my brother hearing of it. He would not approve in any capacity.”

Hilda nodded, “oh yeah, I know that well. My brother is the exact same, any time some suitor wanted to court me I had to be around an escort the entire time _and_ he’d have undercover bodyguards too. He thought I wouldn’t notice, but I knew,” not that she would complain much since she was not all that crazy about the suitors that would come around interested in her crest and name.

“Really? I suppose my brother does not have the resources to do the same,” she said in a thoughtful manner as she imagined bodyguards in various disguises and cover following her around Garreg Mach. She was already beginning to count her blessings.

“Exactly. ‘ _Only the one who is most worthy for my precious little sister,_ ’” she mimicked his gruff voice, “nah. But seriously he loves me even if he gets on my nerves sometimes. Seteth is the same. He just needs to accept that you’re older now and you want someone to be there for you in ways that he can’t be, y’know?”

She nodded with a sigh, “yes, I understand. Although, my brother is considerably obtuse when the conversation is brought to such places.”

“Then you gotta give him no reason to be ‘obtuse.’ You don’t want to be babied forever and he doesn’t want you to grow resentful of his love.”

“Were you able to have your older brother comprehend your grievances?”

Hilda waved her hand, “yes and no. It’s still a work in progress, he trusts me enough to be here without sending anyone to follow me around and fight my battles for me but I let him know that I’m doing okay by responding to his letters. The key is to compromise.”

“I see,” her young features softened, “it is reassuring to know that I am not the only one who struggles with such predicaments when it comes to overbearing older brothers.”

“Right? Us little sisters gotta help each other out where we can,” she winked. She poured herself some more tea, “now, tell me about this special cutie.”

Flayn herself also took a sip of her own tea debating where and how to begin, “he’s a very serious type, quiet, and makes honing his skills a priority...”

“The professor?”

She shook her head, “no, no. He is more abrasive than the professor, more passionate.”

It clicked in her mind, “OH, oh? You’re talkin’ about Félix?”

Her nervous sipping of tea was her answer.

 _Huh. Who would’ve thunk?_ The pink haired woman tried to picture the cheery Flayn with the grouchy swordsman. “Yeah, you’d be cute,” she held her chin and nodded, “but he’s not an easy type to be sure.”

“Easy in what way?”

“Wooing of course. Which you want to a certain extent, you don’t want to go after a guy who will take whatever girl he can get his hands on. Then he’ll run off as soon as he finds someone even slightly better or you’re both just settling for the bare minimum. Besides, it’s no fun when there isn’t at least a little bit of chase.” She paused looking up at the dorm room ceiling trying to get her facts straight about what she knew of Félix, he was more of a loner so they barely interacted with each other and he was the type to stay out of trouble or rumors. “Hmm, he’s most likely not the kinda guy that you just throw yourself at or flirt hard with,” amusing, she and Flayn had more in common than she thought.

Flayn shook her head, “I do not believe so,” which she wasn’t all that troubled with considering she wouldn’t know how to do either such things.

“Talk to Ingrid, from what I know their houses were close back in Faerghus. Get a little background and the kind of things he’s interested in that you can share together, you don’t have to mention your crush right away. You also want to get a good idea of the type of person he is from those who know him to see if that’s _actually_ someone you like or if it’s just the attractive-mysterious-loner thing hazing up your mind. Cuz trust me, some crushes are not worth pursuing,” she made her instructions clear.

She gave a nod, “right.” Flayn stood up with a greater sense of conviction, “thank you so much, Hilda. You have been a wonderful help. I must leave and seek out Ingrid at once.”

Hilda laughed to herself, “don’t worry about it, any time. Oh! Wait,” she got up and began shuffling in her desk drawer and pulled out two small flat boxes. She put them together in a minute and carefully placed a couple of cookies in each before handing them to Flayn, “here, some for you and some for your brother.” More than likely she, Marianne, and Claude would end up finishing the tin by the time Flayn would come back for an update.

The junior’s face lit up, “thank you again! I will see you soon.”

Hilda smiled as she watched Flayn head towards the stairs, “pfft, silly me. I forgot I needed some advice too. Ah well.”

**…**

Seteth hadn’t been able to get a full sleep the past few nights since the battle at Ailell. He was not expecting to get the news of Rhea’s location from Judith, worse was the fact that she was held captive somewhere in Embarr. He was praying that Rhea was hiding somewhere, perhaps resting after over exerting her dragon form. The same way the young professor was sleeping away since he had gone missing until a few months ago. Instead she was trapped with a spiteful brainwashed child and sadists who built their entire purpose around the murder of multiple civilizations.

Ailell was easy. Fortunate. Dead within seconds. They must have realized that there was no gratification in the immediate silence. There was no one to watch bleed out. There were no cries. No bodies to make into trophies. The witnesses spoke of the flashes of light, the explosions, then the sound of nothing as the valley was permanently destroyed. It would be half a millennia before one could even get near to the old city entrance without the heat and the fumes killing them.

 _Why can’t they just kill her and be done with it?_ The answers were obvious. Edelgard would rather not create a martyr for the church and leave Fódlan ignorant as to if Rhea even cares to get involved with this war. What if she chose to abandon those that looked up to her? Hiding away with those riches and gold that the delusional Emperor spouted on about. Those that carry the doubtful identity of humans possess one of the last remaining Children of the Goddess. To use for their experiments and power lust they surely wouldn’t even dare consider killing her so soon.

Seteth’s steps came to a slow crawl before stopping, “please state your business or I would appreciate it if you didn’t follow me.”

“Heh, either you’ve gotta good ear or I need to lighten my step more,” Claude grinned as if he was innocent. “Up pretty late, huh? I was pretty sure you were that ghost Lysithea’s so scared of,” the shorter leader strode with an amused bounce.

“I could say the same for yourself,” he replied in a flat manner, “late night studying, Claude?”

“You know me so well,” it was always difficult to piece in which way he was lying, “but really, I was having a hard time getting to sleep. Saw you and wondered if it was the same.”

He gave a single nod, “it is. I prefer not to toss and turn and rather walk away my thoughts. What is it that troubles you?”

“Bah, the usual for the job. If our crazy army actually has the force to win out this war or if we’re just one expedition away from being wiped out,” he held his hands behind his head as his grin never left his lips.

“It is unfortunate that you must carry such a burden in your age. The weight must have been heavy before even the war, potentially conjoining two different cultures into one with the risk that both reject change and you.”

The older man watched as the mask faltered for an instant before Claude chuckled it off, “you’re actually somewhat decent at this. Tell me what else I’m thinking, Seteth?”

“It was only an observation,” he did not care for the hint of mockery. “Regardless, such questions cannot be answered unless we complete our current goals. So use the trust of those you lead wisely, each decision will always go further beyond than just yourself. I must rest for the early duties tomorrow. Sleep well,” he gave another nod to the young heir out of respect then turned to make his way back to his quarters.

“What a creepy guy,” there was a mutter under his breath that Claude assumed he couldn’t hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Claude, he's normally a rock star in battle but this run Seteth stole the MVP rank in the Valley of Torment. I normally don't write as much prose since I tend to just focus on just my comic scripts, so I took a little bit longer with the battle scene since I tend just to plan those out visually vs actually writing them. So the practice is good and luckily I have enough battles to improve as we go on. 
> 
> No but seriously, why are there no Hilda/Flayn supports and Seteth/Claude Supports? Hilda and Flayn could bond over having annoying over protective brothers and it'd be all cute. And it feels so wrong to me how Claude never gets the same opportunity to realize that Seteth is actually really cool under all of that serious/mysterious exterior like almost all of Seteth's supports.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! Can't show that in a Christian manga!

“I love your hair so much, Marianne,” Hilda said while brushing the other’s hair. “Look at this, look at this,” she pointed at the mirror while one hand adjusted the light blue curls that fell on her shoulder, “ _Ughhh_ I’m _so_ jealous.”

Marianne looked at the mirror as instructed but habitually felt herself looking back down at her hands, “...oh, it’s maybe like that just because of my braids. You have beautiful hair too.”

Hilda shook her head, “the braids help but these have a natural bounce. My hair? _So_ flat. You really need to let me do your hair one day, it’s dying to be seen down.” Not to say she wasn’t enjoying the opportunity to do Marianne’s braids this time.

“Coming in.”

“’Kay.” Hilda turned to Claude as she hugged Marianne tightly from behind, “Claude, tell Marianne she’s beautiful with her hair down cuz she won’t listen to me.”

Claude had to take half a step back from the opened door, “huh, wow. Yeah, listen to Hilda,” he cleared his throat.

Hilda gave Marianne another squeeze, “see? One look and you’ve already got him falling in love with you. You’ll be dropping all of ‘em dead when I’m done with you.”

Marianne held her warm face as she shook her head, “...I...don’t want...anyone to drop dead.”

“Yeah, Hil. We still need half of our troops breathing,” Claude pointed.

Hilda pouted, “you know what I mean.” She began sectioning her hair for braiding, “I dunno why either of you bother to go to the lessons. Neither of you need anymore tests. Heck, Marianne you haven’t needed any tests since winning the dance competition.”

She sat in the seat wanting to ignore the sheer embarrassment of having to participate all those years ago, “...how is that independent training going for you?”

“Oh! It was honestly really annoying the first day but I’m starting to actually get it. With the Professor’s lessons and the extra training with Seteth, I’ll probability be ready to for my test later this month or early next month he says,” she said as she laced the braids, “I’m a quick learner, y’know?”

“Mmm, I can’t say I disagree,” although, it always brought a sour note to his tongue when he was forced to agree with Seteth especially when he thought back to their last pleasant little chat. “Hey, they’re having a lance tournament during this month over at the training grounds, that’s another great way to practice. Makes ya get really in there except like actual battle.”

“Eech, I dunno if I’m ready for that,” Hilda wrinkled her nose. “Alright Marianne, your braids are ready,” she put in a couple of bobby pins to keep the hair style nice and kept for the day.

The light glow from Marianne’s face as she examined the finely done braids was louder than the quiet, “thank you.”

Hilda couldn’t help but hug her again, “Marianne you’re too too adorable!”

“Alright, alright. Let’s not all keel over, we’re going to be late for teach’s session.”

“Boo, I know you’re blushing too, Claude!”

Claude whistles towards the door, “I’m admitting to nothing.”

**…**

“Where _is_ she?” She was sure that the area around the gazebo was her model’s favorite spot during this time of day. That dog had alluded her for the last time and to be fair she should have been more aware to realize she forgot to get a single head on sketch.

“Are you looking for someone?”

Hilda was so busy looking at the ground she didn’t even notice Seteth was reading under the shade, “oh hi there! I hope I’m not making too much noise.”

He placed a slip of paper to mark his place before shutting the book, “a bit of shuffling but nothing to be bothered by,” besides if he had desired complete silence he would have read in the library.

“Ah, well,” she took the empty spot on the bench where he sat, “I was just looking for some dog with spots. No biggie.”

“Let me guess,” he held his chin as he went through the monastery mutts, “you’re looking for the one with the white speckled face and a drooped ear.”

She gasped excited, “how’d you know?”

He allowed a light chuckle to slip, “well, she seems like a dog you would gravitate towards and tends to be near here around this time. Actually, I like that idea.”

Hilda followed with the laugh then cocked her head towards the end, “huh? What idea?”

Seteth gestured with open hands, “immortalizing pieces of your surrounding in your art. It’s not so much so to necessarily date the work in a specific period or place, but one day these things will rush by. Surroundings change. Things die. But a piece will live unchanged by time. This stray would not be forgotten so soon after she inevitably passes.”

“You sound like such a grandpa sometimes,” she shook her head.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that in all fairness. Comes with the position, I suppose.”

“But wait a minute, Flayn speaks even older than you. Are you telling me that she also has a high place in the church?”

He glanced to the side as if the answer was there, “ah, well. She has more free time to read than I do and cares deeply for proper grammar.”

“You know I’m just messing with you,” she said with a grin and nudged his arm with her shoulder.

“Of course,” he said, “must still be drifting on and off. Sleep has been fairly elusive to me recently...”

Hilda felt her smile slip when she realized her own insensitivity, “I’m sorry about Lady Rhea. I know you two have worked closely together for some time.” Here she was chasing down some mutt and trying to flirt, while the archbishop was being held prisoner in the Empire somewhere. She knew she could be selfish but geez, sometimes she irritated herself.

He sighed, “we have. She has been a dear friend of mine for many years.”

“Really?”

He gave a nod, “yes. She is like an older sister. It was through her request and Flayn being old enough that I came here,” there was a pause, “though, it would have been better if I came sooner.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It took me too long to see her again. I could have found a way to make time for both responsibilities if I weren’t so adamant over who I allowed to watch over Flayn.” He leaned forward on his seat, “and now I just keep thinking about how I last saw her before she disappeared. I was so angry. I was so angry and hurt by her—but I never wanted her to be trapped with people who want nothing more than to harm her.”

Hilda stood from her seat, “then you shouldn’t beat yourself up over it! You didn’t wish for anything bad to happen and you shouldn’t feel guilty about taking care of Flayn. Lady Rhea isn’t dead yet and we still have a chance to save her. You believe in having faith, don’t you?” She immediately sat down cupping her face, “ohmygod, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Congratulations, Hilda. He finally let’s you look in a bit and you go nuts. _Again_. She didn’t know what Flayn was talking about the other day, she’s sucking really bad at this.

He looked thoughtful, “I wouldn’t say it was as harsh as _yelling_ , regardless I accept your apology.” Seteth straightened his posture before extending a hand, “would you...pray with me?”

She felt her brain short circuit as she looked at his hand and then his face, “I. Sure.” She took his hand as they stood from the bench and took his other hand into her own, “I uh, I’m warning you. I’m not very good at praying, especially out loud.”

“It’s not about being good or bad, and don’t worry I won’t pressure you into saying anything if you don’t wish to,” he spoke calmly.

She nodded as she leaned back and forth on her heels, “okay.”

They bowed their heads and closed their eyes, “Goddess, we join hands in prayer because we know that we cannot do everything on our own. We thank you for protecting us during these trying times, for giving us shelter, food, and the morale to push forward. We see your blessings and do our best to not take them for granted,” he didn’t speak as if he was giving a lecture it was different, she didn’t know how to place the expression. “I pray for Rhea. You know where your daughter dwells. You know what she has been going through these past five years. Through much of her life. You once said that there is beauty in our imperfection. She has made poor decisions, I can’t deny that. As have I. Grief and isolation can cloud the soul into dark places. Still, I pray that we reach her in time to bring her home. That she strengthens her heart. That she learns to let go. To know that there is still a reason to push through to tomorrow. That she still has family who cares for her.

I pray for you to continue to extend your wisdom to your next heir, Byleth. He is still unfamiliar with much of your ways, but he does have a heart for those around him and I believe that someone from any walk of life can be of use to your message.

I pray for Claude. That he is able to succeed in bringing the Alliance into a nation with a single purpose. That he is able to sleep well to keep his mind sharp and he matures into the kind leader that you desire him to be to his people who will love him.

I pray for Flayn. Protect her. Always give her the strength to keep joy in her heart.

I pray for Bernadetta, calm the anxiety that follows her. She is so brave, allow her to see that within herself.

I pray for Félix. There is inner turmoil, but don’t allow him to fully harden himself from those friends who wish to reach their hands to him.

I pray for Faerghus, the nation has been broken since losing their prince and life has undoubtedly been a struggle that we can’t fully comprehend. May they find a way to rebuild into something stronger and better.

I pray for those who have left their nations to fight in our cause. They have deserted their homes, their land, their friends, everything because they have placed their faith with you and your heir. We should never take their sacrifice lightly and I know they will be given a new home after this war.

I pray for Hilda. She has matured much from that girl who would fall from trees...” he paused as she couldn’t help but snicker a little.

“I’m sorry,” she cleared her throat to cut herself off.

“It’s fine,” his voice didn’t sound bothered in the slightest. He started again, “...into a wonderful woman and I still believe you have more untapped potential there for her to succeed in her pursuits. Just let her feel that she can and quiet those doubts.

I pray for myself. Allow me another day with Flayn and to be of service to you.

Do you wish to add anything, Hilda?”

“Oh, uh. Um, I pray for Marianne. I want her to be happy in herself and to let her be okay with others seeing her as the beautiful person that she is.

I uh pray for Holst, that he will always do his best as the head of Goneril and he’s safe.

And I pray for Seteth. Don’t make him worry so much and it’s okay to make more time away from working all the time.

...And...uh. That I’ll pass my exam sooner than later. And yeah that’s it.”

“We give our thanks for hearing our prayers, Amen.”

“Amen. Heh, that wasn’t so bad,” she normally would be reeling in her shoes during prayer.

“I’m glad to hear you say so. You did very well,” he had such a sweet smile that touched even his eyes. He gave her hands a light squeeze, “thank you. Truly,” he said before letting them go. “Now, I must return back to my duties and I see that your model has finally arrived,” he went over to pick up his book. “Have a pleasant afternoon,” he gave a wave as he excused himself.

Hilda gave a wave back, “you too.” She felt like she had that same stupid face as she did earlier once she stopped waving and processed whatever this last encounter even was. _Dunno what the hell just happened, but I’m marrying_ _this man_ _._

**…**

“So let me get this straight—fire!” A couple of clay targets shot up into the open air and were shattered by whizzing arrows within seconds. “He had you pray _and_ hold hands?”

Hilda stood behind him to the side as Ignatz loaded the catapult for the next round, “yeah. It just like _happened_.”

“Didn’t know y’all were so obscene in public—Add another one in there, Igg—What if Cyril walked in on you two? I don’t think that’d be the proper introduction to _the talk_.”

“Ha ha.”

“Fire!” There were three clay pops in succession not long after. “Two more and we switch, alright? Just shoot when you’re ready,” he directed. He gave a glance to Hilda as he grabbed an arrow from his quiver, “but don’t we always skip prayer?”

“It actually wasn’t so bad, it was only like what? Maybe 4 minutes or something.”

“Huh, finished that fast you say. You’d think he’d go a bit longer, considering.”

“Right?? That’s what I was expecting.”

“Y’know Hil, there’s a real good looking priest who’s a regular and he’s a real stallion on the pulpit. Can pray your brains out for over an hour I hear.”

His focused demeanor began to unravel as he felt her gears start to click. “You’re going to Hell, Claude.”

He buried his face in his hand trying to calm the laughing breaking through, “hey, don’t blame me. You walked face first into that.” There was the unsatisfying break of his targets hitting the ground, “well, there goes my perfect record and I’m not even mad.” Claude sighed, “Okay, Ignatz, your turn.”

He began his walk to the small catapult with Hilda following beside him, “alright. So I did. Whatever. But no, you don’t get it. There was something really there, I know it.”

“Have you started messaging your brother about him? Holst wouldn’t appreciate being the last to know about who has stolen his beloved little sister’s heart,” he picked up the fired arrows on his way.

“Kind of, but mostly he’s happy that I’ve gotten a hobby with an actual goal attached and that I hadn’t dropped it after the first week,” she also bent over to help.

“That’s right, how long have you been at this?”

“Um...” She muttered some mental notes, “I’m on my sixth story so far.”

Claude turned to her impressed, “heey, look at you! I’m proud of you too, Hil,” he gave a firm shake on her shoulder. “Great stuff! And he reads them to the kids or something?”

“Yeah, every Sunday morning. I’ve only gone like once cuz it’s still pretty weird seeing my stuff being y’know _presented_ ,” she handed him the arrows she had managed to get. “But it’s really nice. You can tell he has such a soft spot for kids.”

He loaded the clay targets and gave the signal to Ignatz. He released the targets on call. “Maybe we should drop in on a Sunday story-time. We’d look a little old, but hey it wouldn’t hurt,” he suggested.

She adjusted her bangs, “I dunno if I want you to see it just yet.”

“It doesn’t have to be _this_ Sunday. Pick a Sunday you think is a winner and we’ll go,” he began loading again. “I want to see what you have been working so hard on,” he turned to her with that goofy grin.

Hilda’s face lit up as she wrapped her arms around him, “you know I love you, Claude?”

“Ah yes, that’s why you damn me to Hell,” he returned the hug with his arm.

They broke the embrace, “this means you can’t look until I’ve got a perfect story! But aw man, that means I’ve gotta work even twice as hard to make sure it’s right,” she was already beginning to regret the plan.

“Bah, you’ve got time,” he casually released the clay targets, “and if it makes you feel any better, I can’t even draw a stick figure right. So I’m sure whatever you end up showing me I’ll be pretty much guaranteed to be impressed.”

“Well even if you’re not, you better do a good job in pretending you are,” she grinned.

“I’ll start rehearsing my ‘wow’ face and tearing up in case there’s any sad or heartwarming parts.”

“Good!”

* * *

Hilda’s breath felt so light. Her skin hyper sensitive to each touch. Her pulse so strong that she could hear it thumping in her ear.

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice wanting as his lips trailed her neck. His battle worn hands shaping her topless body as his beard tickled her collar bone.

Her fingers traced a scar that decorated one of his strong shoulders. His body was so firm and fit that it was a sheer crime that every inch of him was always hidden away under his coat and cape.

It was unfair. His movements were insanely slow and methodical. She would brush her leg against him and he would punish her by moving his hips away from her touch and marking the spot he was once kissing as if to tally how many times she’s failed his test. “Patience,” he reiterated. It was the calm before the storm in his mind games as she felt his fingers trace her thighs then the shape of her panty. She felt her heart skip when he drew his hand on the outline of her entrance and she felt herself shudder as he placed even more pressure on his way back up to her waistband then—

Her eyes popped open before she squeezed them shut. “Augghhhh,” she screamed into her pillow, which only took the slight turn of her head. Why did she always have to wake up right before he tears off the last of her clothes? Why were these stupid dreams coming up twice as much since that day she buried herself in his chest? Why did the next perverted dream feel more real than the last? Her heart rate was still going erratic and even though she was still fully clothed in her pajamas she felt his hands on her body. But nope, they weren’t. It’s just another jolt where she finds herself waking up in the middle of grinding on the bed.

 _Maybe I wouldn’t be so intense if I had just screwed him by now_ , she mused to herself. Even if she managed to get a confession, more than likely (if not definitively) he’d keep his pants on until the wedding night. She _had_ to like a religious guy who wasn’t a hypocritical pervert when outside of the church—which was part of his charm and a _literal_ good thing, she couldn’t lie. And sure, she has evolved beyond the physical in her affections quite a whiles ago, but damn it playing the slow game was driving her nuts and making her fall harder over the smallest contact. Even in her dreams she’s being told to hold back.

She sighed deeply, no, she had to move in a fair pace. He’s got a defensive that’s 20 meters thick. Dunno why or how. But those kinds of people cut off and shut down if you try to destroy that wall without them, she’s learned that the hard way before. There’s been progress. He’s started to shave off layers. She’s gotta be fair. He wouldn’t if he didn’t genuinely care, right? _Patience_ , she repeated to her thoughts.

**…**

There was a light knock on her dorm room door.

“It’s unlocked, Marianne,” Hilda called from her desk.

She slowly turned the knob to let herself in, “...good morning, Hi—what are you working on?” She wasn’t expecting to see Hilda up, ready, and awake enough to be fiddling away on her desk.

Hilda was carefully closing up the clasp piece, “aannd done!” She turned in her seat towards Marianne with an excited grin as she showcased the silver and deep blue bracelet, “do you like it?”

Her eyes widened as she stepped forward, with a little push she took the gift in her hands, “I...you didn’t have to...”

She waved it away, “pfft, I know I didn’t _have_ to. I wanted to, silly.” She leaned in from her seat to point at her handiwork, “I saw this charm at a merchant’s booth some time ago when I was shopping with Annette and I knew I had to get it. Isn’t it super cute? So now you can carry a little Dorté when in your dancing uniform.”

An airy sigh left her lips, “ah, it does look like him...” Her gaze went back to Hilda, “were you working on this all night?”

“Nah, it didn’t take me über long. I woke up really early and couldn’t go back to sleep, figured I might as well do something after getting ready for this morning. That and I felt bad for what I said yesterday, it wasn’t like you were intending to become a dancer to finish up all of your tests or anything,” she explained.

“Oh, I wasn’t upset about that...it is unfair since everyone else has to study so hard for their own stopping points and I finished so soon,” she looked at her feet.

“Well too late,” Hilda took back the bracelet in her hands to unclasp and link it on Marianne’s wrist, “it’s all yours.”

Marianne smiled, “thank you so much.”

“Anytime! And since your hair’s down, I’m guessing you’d like my services again, hmm?”

“...If it isn’t too much trouble...”

Hilda stood from her seat, “as _if_! I love any excuse to brush your hair, c’mon let me get the chair by the mirror.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an interesting chapter and probably a favorite because it had a lot of parts I enjoyed writing. Some scenes have been planned before my writer's crazed mind started the first paragraph of the first page (I.E. Hilda's hot and bothered dream) and some just woke me up in the middle of the night like: "OH MY GOD. I love it." AKA: Seteth asking Hilda to pray with him. Just really ended up loving the flow of that conversation and the level of chaste intimacy. One can blame it on the lack of sleep or the fact that there is actual trust growing in there. I also think it fits Seteth's character well that he doesn't do crazy long prayer sessions, he has too much to do, places to be, and rather be active in doing what he can on top of prayer. Yes, I actually timed how long the prayer was. 
> 
> I am aggressively in love with Hilda and Claude's relationship. Platonic relationships are so much fun to write and seriously makes me jealous that I don't have a bestie like that. He might not like Seteth at all but man, he does have a lotta love for Hilda.
> 
> I also found it amusing how this chapter progressed: wholesome, too wholesome that it almost travels back around on itself, slightly dirty, dirty, back to wholesome again. But seriously, Marianne is too wholesome for this world. And I think the mental image of Hilda making jewelry pieces in the early early morning cuz she has too much pent up energy to go to sleep is just hilarious to me. While not the most sexual of the Three Houses potential waifus, sexuality does play a part in Hilda's character.
> 
> Oh, and I made a Spotify playlist to add to my suffering of choosing to fall into this rabbit hole. Debating to make it collaborative but I read that those can get hectic so I may just leave it as is and add as I find more music. I'll eventually draw up a better cover, hopefully sooner than later haha. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7kpxhAo1VwW8es9VHLDSkn?si=S8Cz91PVQumVq7cG8SUJnQ


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a hectic day.

Flayn examined the plump melons in the greenhouse. Her hands carefully traced the skin for any rotten flaws and then squeezed for the appropriate hardness. Her grin grew when she realized the perfection of the fruit and placed it in her woven basket.

“Hey there, Flayn, whatcha doin’?” Hilda’s voice startled her from her thoughts elsewhere.

She didn’t realize that there was anyone other than the head gardener inside with her, “O-oh! Hilda, you gave me quite a fright,” she sighed as she picked up another melon.

Her senior with an obsession for pink came with a water pail in her hand, “sorry. What do you have there though?” She peered at the basket with a number of various fruits and vegetables, “do you have kitchen duty today?”

“Ah, yes, yes. I was assigned for today’s lunch meal,” she repeated the same reason to Seteth earlier as she was leaving their hall with the basket. With the mild grimace in his gaze while he gave her a pat of encouragement, at the very least she knows that he’ll be avoiding the dining hall.

Hilda stared at the basket’s contents, “what are you even gonna make? It’s all kinda...all over the place and doesn’t the kitchen already have the fresh stuff picked and ready for the week?”

This one is more astute than she leads others to believe. “I was hoping to experiment with adding my own flair to already established dishes and finish off with a fruit salad,” Flayn explained twiddling with the melon on her hands.

Those pink eyes looked right through her wobbly facade, Flayn should know better considering this was Claude’s partner. But instead of opting to call out the lie she gave a knowing smile, “ _ahh_ , is that all? Well, don’t fill your basket too much, it’ll be too heavy for you to carry that far on your own.”

She nodded, “I will remember to take that into account. So you have garden duty today?”

“Yeeup,” she tipped the pail to give the drying soil next to where they stood some water. Before Flayn could go back to her produce picking she spoke again, “just don’t forget what we talked about last time, okay?”

Even if she wanted to forget, she couldn’t, “right.” She just needed to find that most opportune moment with the best most articulate wording. “Thank you again for the cookies, brother and I enjoyed them very much,” she attempted to steer the conversation elsewhere.

Her smile shifted into something far lighter, “oh! That’s great! What did your brother say?”

Oddly, she recalled that he had his own variation of lightness when opening the box, “he said that it was just like you and called the cookies ‘cute’,” she recounted unsure exactly what the significance was and why it was starting to make her fidget.

With the words alone, she held her face with her free hand, “how sweet!” Like a switch went off in her resolve, she put a hand on her shoulder, “Flayn, you’ve gotta tell me the best way to win over your brother.”

“Win over?”

“Oh come on, y’know to date—hey, careful,” she moved her leg to miss the melon that fell on the concrete.

She didn’t even realize she had let go, “oh no, I apologize!” Flayn got down and picked up the newly bruised and dented fruit.

“Are you okay?”

Was she? She took a deep breath to try to regain composure, “I am just surprised, are you not already courting Claude?”

“Yeah, it looks like that sometimes cuz we’re always hanging out together,” she shrugged, “but no, we tried dating once and it just felt too weird for us.”

“Oh, I must have been mistaken. Although, I would not understand what would be so compelling about my brother,” Flayn’s fingers circled the dent on the melon to give them something to do, “he is not a very spectacular person and mundane for someone like yourself.”

“I thought that at first when I started going to the Academy, but then when I actually got the chance to know him I realized what _isn’t_ there to like about him? Sure, he’s the ‘work now, relax later’ type big time and it takes him a while before he feels comfortable smiling around you. But he’s actually really kind and creative and smart and strong. And _man_ the way he swings an ax just makes my heart sing,” she couldn’t help but to gush.

Her words invited another wave of feelings that Flayn couldn’t comprehend within herself. Hilda wasn’t lying about how admirable his character was and she felt a deep appreciation that she could see that, but at the same time it made her stomach just churn more, “I am...glad you think so. My b-brother does tend to be misread as aloof to most people.”

Hilda paused when she finally was out of her head space, “oooohhh, you’re like your brother, huh?”

“I do not know what you mean.”

“He doesn’t like you to date, you don’t like him to date,” she represented Flyan and Seteth with their own respective palm.

“He does not date,” she shook her head.

Hilda gave an empathetic look, “don’t worry about it, Flayn. I’m defensive about who dates my big brother too, it’s okay. My big brother knows she’s not the winner until she gets the thumbs up from me and vice versa. But you can’t expect him to never d—”

“He is _not_ interested in those of your kind.”

For the first time since meeting her, Hilda looked like she at an absolute loss for words. “ _...Excuse me?_ ”

Flayn scrambled to backtrack the slip, “I-I mean, you are not his type. Yes, that is what I meant. Type.”

Hilda may have not been much taller than her, but she felt her presence tower over her as she crossed her arms with a controlled smile, “okay. What type am I?”

“I—You are the type who...I mean, what I am trying to say is that, you are not a _bad_ person it is just you um,” words, what were words?

“No no, I get it.” The smile fell as she set down the pail and made her way towards the exit, “see you around.”

Flayn was quickly coming to realize she perhaps made a _much_ bigger mistake than she originally believed. “Hilda, wait!” Flayn tried to call out to her but her words weren’t acknowledged as the other walked out the door.

**…**

It took Claude some time to catch up to where he was needed according to Byleth’s message. The Almyran teen stood with a look of irritation and an unusual mix of fear, “hey there, Cyril, you called?” It took only a slight glance away from the teen to notice a pink ball of fury chopping away at the lumber.

“She’s been at it for over 35 minutes. I tried to tell ‘er not to do my job for me, but then she looked at me like I was gonna be on the choppin’ block next,” Cyril shuddered, “your girl’s scary.”

“Yeah, she can be,” he muttered as he scratched the side of his face. “I’ll talk to ‘er, you can go do whatever it is you also have assigned for today,” he directed for him to excuse them.

Cyril reluctantly nodded, “I’m comin’ back, so ya better not make a bigger mess of things.”

“Sure, sure.” When Cyril was a fair enough distance he took his first few steps towards the thwunking of ax slicing wood clean in half.

Once he reached a certain distance he could hear slight mutterings in a high pitched tone between her breaths, “ _I bet you’re the kind that’s got a revolving door—_ “

“Hey, Hil. You okay?”

The ax paused in mid-air and the solo conversation ended. She lowered the weapon into a resting position before turning her head to his direction, “I’m _wonderful_ ,” she said in her sweetest voice. With the proper twisting of her feet she twirled her body to him, “say, Claude. What do you define as ‘ _my kind?’”_

He felt his eyes widen only slightly, she’s way more pissed than she looks. “Ah, what is this this about?”

“What kind of girl am I?” She tightened her hold on the ax while her gaze only grew darker.

“Uh, can we...” he cautiously went to get close enough to lower the weapon further, “...put down the ax first...please?”

“Am I a slut, Claude?”

His face shot up from her hands to her eyes, “ _what_? No—Who told you that?” He had also shifted his hands to her arms as he searched her face, “hmm?”

Her scowl showed itself as she teetered on her boots.

“Hilda, please talk to me.”

She swallowed the lump she felt in her throat before having a long exhale, “Flayn said that Seteth would never be interested in those like me.”

His expression shifted even further into confusion, “ _Flayn?_ Sweet little baby Flayn?”

“She’s not that sweet apparently,” Hilda said with simmer, obviously she wanted to get back to chopping.

He rose a hand to try to pull her back to the conversation, “wait, wait. Did she say that she got that from Seteth? Do you think that’s where she got it?”

“ _No._ And I never feel like that when I’m around him, sure there was the one time he told me to pull up my top but honestly, my boobs looked like they were about to pop out.”

“Alright, so she wasn’t repeating what she heard. Do you think she actually meant _that_? Did she say: Hilda, my holy brother would never be interested in a promiscuous woman such as yourself—or however the heck she’d say it?”

“...No. But she did tell me I have an expertise with men last week.”

His head bobbed back in fourth trying to process the new information, “ _...okay_ I agree, that sounds pretty bad with this added in. Look, I’m gonna talk to her, okay? Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding, I know Flayn has a hard time getting what she’s saying across,” he said. “Do you want me to do that for you?”

She slowly nodded. She knew better than anyone that she wasn’t in the right state of mind to get answers one-on-one.

“Alright, I’ll talk to her. And then the three of us can get this cleared up maybe tonight or tomorrow, after we’re all cooled down. Okay?”

“Thanks, Claude,” she leaned on him.

“Anytime. I don’t want a war starting in _here_ too, right?” He loosened up, “alright, let’s put the firewood in a nice pile or else I’m gonna be hearing it from Cyril later.”

Hilda groaned, “yeeahh, I guess I just added more work for myself, huh? I’m such a mess.”

“At least it was a productive mess,” he pointed out as he began gathering the wood. “And Hilda?”

“Yeah?”

“Watch it,” he said, “don’t let your thoughts eat you, ‘kay?”

She picked up more wood, “they’re not. Don’t worry about it.”

**…**

Hilda heaved as she ran through the training grounds doors, “sorry, I’m so late!” She tightened her newly cleaned ponytail as she closed the distance between herself and Seteth, “I had gardening duty and then something came up and I was helping pick up the firewood...”

“We have little time as it is, it would do us no good to be wasting any more on excuses. Come, get your training lance and we’ll begin,” Seteth stated simply as his palm pointed to the general direction of the weapons rack.

 _Ugghh, today sucks._ She dragged her feet to the weapons rack and grabbed the first wooden lance she could reach before returning to her tutor, “got it.”

“Good,” he chose to overlook her pouting as a rough start, “now, we want to start moving to getting into the mindset of application. So far you have been training as if you were an average sized user. As we have discussed in other sessions, the lance is more of a long range weapon albeit not as long range as a bow or magic. Hold out your lance to your right and I’ll do the same.”

They were directly in front of each other and the lances were the exact same length, but his wooden blade far surpassed her own. Her head turned to each end to compare the distance in her mind.

“Undoubtedly you see it,” he read her mind clicking with an amused grin, “you have quite the disadvantage: you’re short. Yet, I can argue you have an advantage: you’re short.”

She looked at him curiously, “that’s an advantage?”

“Tell me, how much does the blade typically occupy on a lance?”

“Uh, 20 percent give or take.”

“And the other 80 percent?”

“That’s the handle—“ she did a double take at the lance.

His grin grew, “exactly.” He rested the lance at his side and stepped several spaces back, “now, come at me. From position A.”

Hilda blinked and looked around, “what?? You can’t be serious.”

“I am very serious,” he said as he slid into his proper footing, “from position A.”

Oh Goddess, she was gonna add humiliation sprinkles on today’s dose of crap ice cream. She placed her right foot forward and got into position.

“To state the obvious again, I have a height advantage. Because of the anatomy of a lance, there is the intention to keep a distance between you and your opponent. So it would take little effort for me...” he tapped her on the side with his wooden blade before she could even recognize to move out of the way, “...to close the distance offensively if we were both playing with the same strategy.”

This was gonna be such a joke. He’s already got a win within the first what? 6 and a half seconds? She took a deep breath and got into position again. This time she went back further. No, that wasn’t going to do her any good. She’d have a harder time getting close. If she couldn’t reach him before, she’d definitely wouldn’t be able to reach him now. She bit her lip as she eased her way back forward and he moved back with his lance keeping her at bay.

Being the mind reader he was, he began again, “since you’ve stepped out of my bubble, I want to keep you out of my bubble. Again, it wouldn’t be difficult because I can reach further. So I can take a more defensive position until...” he tapped her right shoulder, “I find an opening.”

 _DAMN IT!_ Her fault, she should’ve known better, but damn it did it make her stomp her foot.

“You’re doing fine. Try again, from position A.”

“Position A,” she repeated to herself as she started again.

“Focus.”

She nodded. They slowly circled each other. She had to keep herself moving. Hilda stumbled back slightly as she dodged his lance and used the more stable of her feet to bounce back. She was only allowed a split second to reflexively use the staff portion to block his blade and push back. This time her feet gave her away and he tapped her side again.

“Don’t lose the tempo. Try again.”

She sighed as she went back to the top. She did a little better that time though. So that was something. He said that her height was a disadvantage and advantage, but so far it seemed like only the former was true. This time she focused on trying to maintain the flow. Keeping herself in a defensive position since she still couldn’t find herself getting close enough for a strike. The handle is 80 percent. The strategy is obvious. Of course it’s obvious. But how to break through? She bit the side of her mouth and used her next evade to take control of the speed. She miscalculated her moment to strike, her lance was twisted from her grasp, and there was another tap.

Seteth handed her back the lance, “very good, very good. Again.”

Easy for him to say, he hasn’t even broken a sweat while here she was dying. She’s got this. She’s got this. The answer is right there in her face. Flow. Defensive. Focus. Break through. Block. Dodge. Tempo. Pick up speed. Dodge. Close the distance. Switch to offensive. Still can’t get in there. _What if_ , she twisted herself the second that the wooden lances clacked into each other and managed to get a single tap to his side.

“That was simply—“

“Amazing,” Ingrid clapped as she walked in from the sidelines, “I hope I’m not interrupting too much but, you are truly an exceptional teacher, Seteth.”

“Oh no, no. You’re just fine.” And the happy cloud crashed, burst into flames, and burnt down the entire forest before it could even reach full lift off. How long had Ingrid been there? Long enough, no doubt.

Seteth adjusted his navy coat, “I never did much teaching in Garreg Mach. So I don’t believe I deserve the title. Nevertheless, I appreciate the sentiment.”

“That's really unfortunate, most teachers wouldn’t know how to approach such a fundamental deterrent as height with a student,” Ingrid pondered the thought, “by passing the blade in order to force a far more close range type of combat the taller user ends up becoming more closed in on themselves. Their movements shorter and stilted. Although, it’s a risky fighting style as well.”

“Great eye, as expected. Yes, one must have a strong defensive and be quick enough to act. As Hilda’s proven, she has the capability for both. It is also uncertain if such an option would be viable once we begin adding our mounted creatures. One thing at a time, I suppose.”

They just loved having their nerd talks. Talking about weapons and strategies and what if this or that happened. It wouldn’t irritate Hilda so much if Ingrid wasn’t so obvious. These were innocent little talks, those who were none the wiser wouldn’t bat an eye. Someone with her skill, could sniff what was up instantaneously. _Just give them their couple of minutes, it’s not as big of a deal that you’re making it out to be._ Besides, there is no better time than now for a break and a drink of water.

Ingrid is defiantly the kind of girl Seteth would want. What kind of guy wouldn’t want her? She’s always reaching for the top, if she wasn’t already there. A powerful warrior. Graceful. Kind. Doesn’t care about gossip. Devout. Modest. Responsible. On time for everything. She’s the one who scolds, never scolded at. Her skin and features are so clear and perfect that she doesn’t even need make-up. So she’s way more low maintenance and not spoiled at all. Her slender figure also matches her natural elegance. Her boobs are also not so big, a perfect size, not flat but not huge. And her eyes, damn it, their kids would have the greenest eyes in all of Fódlan and be stupid cute.

 _AUGH, Shut up brain!_ And she’s also so mature.

“I should leave you to your training, Hilda and I are in a fairly tight schedule. You’re participating in the tournament, correct?” Their few minutes of chatter were winding down.

“Yes, the rotating sparring is excellent practice and an upgraded Silver Lance would be a nice plus. Are you going to attend?”

He shook his head, “unfortunately, I will be far too busy around that time. Good luck, I’m sure you’ll excel.”

“That’s too bad.”

That’s it. “ _Aww, that’s too bad,_ ” she stomped her way to the tournament master, “I wanna sign up for the lance tournament.”

The aged man looked at Hilda befuddled, “you sure?” He held out the sign-up sheet with a pencil.

Hilda scribbled her name, “very.” The thought process and action all concluded neatly right when Seteth and Ingrid parted ways.

“I deeply apologize,” Seteth caught back up with Hilda, “that went a minute or two longer than intended. Did the break help at least?”

“Oh, you know me. I’m always up for some extra lounging,” she stretched lazily with a grin. She picked up her leaning lance, “let’s get back to it, right?”

“You did outstanding,” he caught her gaze and kept it, “I don’t want you to leave here without hearing that. Your hard work is truly paying off, you should be proud. If you would be willing, I would like to squeeze in an additional session from here on. I believe we can easily pass you through Wyvern Lord before our next expedition.”

“That’s in a couple of weeks though and I don’t wanna take up too much of your time...” she picked at the chipping nail polish on her index finger.

“As long as you maintain a fairly flexible schedule and everything gets done on my end, I’m sure there won’t be a problem,” he explained.

 _Just say yes, stupid._ “I do want to get this test over with. Sure, another session with lances won’t kill me. Thanks Seteth, you’re great help.”

**…**

“You’re quiet tonight, Flayn, what are you thinking about?” The green pair chose to share their dinners outside of the dining hall in their own quarters.

What was she not thinking about? Since this morning it has been an exhausting, frustrating, and guilt-ridden turbulent day. It seemed like since the mess of a conversation with Hilda, her eyes had been opened to things that she hadn’t recognized before. Now she was also thinking back to when Leonie had stopped her to ask what her brother’s favorite fish dish was. Or how Catherine lamented how long it’s been since she’s had such a skilled sparring partner. How he has become more open to travel outside of his usual internal bubble. How opinions have begun to shift the other way towards him. How an alarming number of female friendships were being made. Were there reasons beyond simple friendship bonds being forged? She shoved in a mouthful of food for any excuse to extend the silence.

Seteth set down his fork, “Flayn, you’ll hurt yourself if you take such large bites,” he moved the glass of water closer to her.

She didn’t want to, but she did end up taking the water to help down the food. It was always a personal loss when he knew better.

He rose himself to lean over her. With a careful hand he held her face up to him and with the other he wiped off the excess on her cheeks and lips with a handkerchief, “you’re much too old for this,” his soothing words in a near whisper but his smile said he was more than happy to oblige.

Flayn moved her head away from his touch, “then allow me to handle it myself,” she made a futile attempt to keep her pride and wiped off the imaginary mess from her face with her napkin in protest.

He took no offense. It was impossible for him to take offense to anything she did. He sat himself back down, “did lunch duty go well for you?”

Flayn could tell he was going to poke around to the source of her discomfort, “i-it went well. Petra was there and actually taught me how to follow the instructions this time.” After her mishap she had dropped her plans on ‘wooing’ for some other day and went to go help Petra in the kitchen instead. So her lie turned out to not be so much of a lie in the end.

“That’s wonderful. Petra was very kind to teach you,” he took a bite.

“Are you becoming close friends with Petra too?”

He paused his chewing for a moment before finishing his bite. “No, unfortunately I can’t say I am all that close with her. I should remedy that considering she is a Princess of Brigid and we should strengthen our relations to those outside of Fódlan. She’s a pleasant and bright one, great potential as a Queen.”

Flayn felt herself tripping at her mistake, “no, that’s okay. I do not think you two would make great friends. That’s all.” She stabbed some of her food with her fork and plopped some more food in her mouth. None of the taste was coming through.

“Do you feel alright, Flayn? You’re becoming very flushed,” He rose himself again to touch her face. She was speaking too erratically and he could feel it.

“I feel fine, father,” she wriggled away from him.

Instinctively he looked over to check that they were alone, “Flayn. Please, don’t say such things out loud,” he kept his voice low, “what if someone had walked through those doors just now?”

“I apologize. I misspoke,” she really needed to calm down. She took a deep breath and sat back down to focus on her plate. Flayn’s thoughts continued to swell in her mind as they ate in silence. “Would you still love me knowing how selfish I am, brother?”

“Where would you ever get such an idea?”

“I want things for myself, yet I do not want you to have them,” she pressed her hands to her heart.

“You wouldn’t be selfish, I must sacrifice my wants for you. I would sacrifice everything for you,” he had already gotten up and lowered himself eye level to her. He took her hands into his own, “I say it every day when I wake up: I have been blessed with the most kind, loving, beautiful girl I could ever hope to meet in my lifetime. Why wouldn’t I give everything I could to you?”

His hands always reminded her how small she was. Holding them tenderly as if they may break with too much pressure. For the longest time that would be true, but she was a lot better now though her body didn’t show it. She swallowed the pressing she felt in her throat, “do you feel lonesome, brother?”

“How could I ever feel lonesome when I have you?”

Flayn should have expected that answer. She had to press harder, “But I cannot be with you in every way you may need nor you with me in every way that I may need. Shall I never be embraced as you have embraced mother?”

This was one of those moments where he, himself felt the role switching wholly inappropriate and odd, on top of everything else in this statement. Thank the Goddess they chose to eat their dinners in privacy or else there would certainly be uncomfortable looks, “where on Earth is this coming from? Should I be checking your books?”

“No, I did not gather these thoughts from text. They are wholly my own,” okay, there was one book but she ended up tossing it in the lake in beet red shock. So that didn’t count. “And I am merely speaking in hyperbole to get my intentions across.”

He stood as he rubbed his temples, “they have been noted. You know as well as I do, we do not have that luxury.”

“But why?”

“Why? Flayn, we’re all that’s left. Our kind are effectively extinct. Believe me when I say that I did not want this either, but it is our reality.”

She squeezed her own fingers, “so we should just wander until we eventually die? Freeze our hearts completely?”

She watched him hold his face deep in thought.

“I do not believe even you believe that to be true. For those reasons I must acknowledge my selfishness,” her green curls leaned forward as she hung her head.

“I’m still not sure that I follow, Flayn,” he didn’t seem to move.

“I desire to have a significant other, yet I recoil at the idea of you becoming smitten with another.” She tried to blink away the mist developing in her vision, “you are different, brother. I feel a lightness in you that I have almost forgotten about after so many years. I initially believed that perhaps it was the new friendships you have allowed to develop, but deep inside me I felt it was something else. Something beyond such things, though I could not see it clearly until just recently. Now your happiness troubles me. I...” she used her puffy sleeves to wipe off what she has failed to keep back, “I do n-not wish for you to replace me and mother...”

He moved her hands away from her face as he calmed her, “my precious beam of light. My greatest gift, I am so sorry to have caused you any pain or doubt in your heart. I promise that you nor mother will ever be replaced. No matter how much time passes, I will always love both of you as deeply as I always have,” his thumb to clear away a tear from her cheek.

“You promise?”

“I promise today and tomorrow and 1 million years from now,” he kissed her forehead.

Her smile broke through, “make it 2 million years.”

“I’m not sure I have that long, but done. 2 million years,” his smile reflected her own as he fixed her slightly ruffled hair. “So, I must know who this young man is.”

Flayn stiffened as she turned red for different reasons, “ahh, perhaps not tonight, brother. I am _very_ tired!”

“Fine then, tomorrow morning.”

“Brother!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have surpassed 30 pages of this crazy endeavor! And the boat's still chugging along! W00t! \\(;w;)/
> 
> This Chapter's my first single day and dang it, it's my longest one yet. I gotta stop saying that I had fun writing these chapters every time a new one gets completed. Fortunately it's true. Love these characters and how easily they flow into their space, how they each have their own little flair in how they speak. Admittedly, Flayn is probably the hardest character for me to write dialogue for considering I have to remind myself "yes, she does have a clunky way of speaking and her vernacular always has a range of feeling out of place." 
> 
> I was also really excited to get to this bit of the story since Hilda's internal rivalry with Ingrid has been stewing in my mind forever. I find it interesting how I like both ships for completely opposite reasons. Ingrid is quite literally everything that Hilda isn't and it's too bad that they don't have supports either because they contrast each other so much. In attitude, in maturity, in upbringing, and so fourth. They also ship really well with Seteth if you were to ask me haha (too bad Ingrid/Seteth is regulated to only one route). 
> 
> While several characters have their own little personal harems, I find Seteth's about as amusing as I do Felix's. Seteth trotting around in the monastery all oblivious and polite while chicks come to the realization of "Oh no. He's hot and AAA husband material" in the background. He has a way bigger batch of possible suitors than even Sylvain. With how much Flayn would want to lie to herself, I don't think she'd be the first one to jump for joy at such an idea. 
> 
> And I internally cry because in a game with so many dads that suck, Seteth is so good. A helicopter parent, who isn't always perfect and worries all the time, but still so good.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumb.

“Do you believe I’m behaving oddly?”

Par usual Seteth was early. This morning he was even more intentionally early, in fact, he was the first one in the war room before Byleth. He hadn’t even registered the apprehension for anything unusual during their morning greetings until the first wave of silence was disturbed, “odd? In what way?”

“Flayn told me that I’m different. ‘Pleasant,’ for the lack of a better word,” there was a slight sting with the choice of words when he asked for further elaboration in the morning.

“I always found you pleasant. So no,” Byleth’s expression didn’t shift.

Seteth didn’t know how he should have taken such a statement, “there is no need to spare my feelings, professor. I acknowledge that I was not very kind to you when you first came to the monastery. I even openly interrogated you.”

The professor didn’t move, “you were doing your job. You should know who you’re trusting with your academy’s students. Besides, I was not used to being questioned. How I was raised, I stayed silent while Jeralt spoke for me. I rarely had the opportunity to think beyond mere instruction much less about how little I knew about myself. So, I appreciated that seed being planted.”

 _Terrible, such a terrible way to raise a child_ , Seteth shuddered in disapproval. Jeralt had his reasons and his intentions may have not been malicious but too many thoughts about the late captain of the Knights always followed with frustration in his mind. He brought the question back, “but what about when I had confided in Flayn about you watching over the coffin in your first few months? It was an unpleasant comment.”

“You have a sense of humor. I thought it was funny,” he responded.

Seteth held his face in his hand, “you think too highly of me.” What would his laugh even sound like? There needed to be an effort for the young tactician to even give the simplest of smiles. Byleth’s replies only invited more questions that distracted him.

“Okay. You were a terrible person, Seteth.”

“Don’t force yourself to simply _agree_ with me. I want _your_ thoughts as one with agency,” he rubbed his temple irritated and remembered why it took time to soften to Byleth.

“See, you haven’t changed much,” Byleth said simply, “you have that serious exterior, but you’ve always cared about those around you. During my short time as a teacher, I never saw Rhea take interest in anyone outside of just me. Yet, I would see you take any little time you had from your busy day to talk to the staff and students about what they needed. Why would I ignore that and simply label you as unpleasant just because it takes a while to see outward warmth?”

He sighed, “Rhea cared. She’s always been more of a distant person and became further so after…” he stopped as he found that they were still trailing off, “can we just _focus_ on the initial question, please?”

“You want to know what’s different about you. Now versus then,” the shorter man placed a hand on his shoulder and looked at him directly, “you are enjoying yourself more. Which is good. You should be allowed to be happy, Seteth. You are a pleasant person.”

The sound of shoes clacking signaled the end of their talk, at least he got an answer. How to decipher the puzzle into a coherent image still slipped away from him. He watched as Shamir, Alois, Catherine, and Lorenz entered the room on time. Ingrid was only slightly slowed down by dragging Sylvain and Félix but otherwise also on time. As the minutes passed, the rest of the generals filtered in. Seteth waved for Flayn to stand near him once she came through the door, to which she eased her way to him.

“Let’s get this meeting started,” Claude strode to the front with Hilda right beside him. She greeted him with a grin and a wave, to which Seteth caught himself mirroring until he recalled that he was being too polite again and opted for a simple nod. 

“Late as always,” Lorenz gave a flip of his long hair, “have you no shame? It is our duty as nobles to be punctual to every important engagement. If you want to be viewed as a competent leader of the Alliance—”

“I don’t think you’ve ever heard about being fashionably late. What do you say, Hil?”

She tried to feign some restraint as she lightly muffled her giggles and pushed his arm, “I don’t know if he has…”

 _Tch_. “Claude, more fashionable than muah? Anyone with eyes can see I am clearly the superior mmhaha mhaha,” Lorenz’s chuckle leaked from his smug lips.

“Whatever you say to get up in the morning,” Claude waved his hand as he took his place beside Byleth, “Alright, is everyone that needs to be here, here? Yes? Shut the doors, Bernadetta, we don’t want a repeat of last month.” He waited for the clink before he began, “I want to start off this meeting by congratulating all of you so far. We’ve had a great deal of success so far, although I’m not all too surprised since we have a great team here. You’re probably going to hear me say this every month: we’ve got a real important expedition in front of us. This month if we succeed, we finally shut down the Empire’s and their loyalists’ hopes to have any footing in the Alliance. We will also have a smoother pathway into Adrestia. So yeah, important all around.

I have our outside help preparing right now for their own mission and Lorenz, we can fully confirm that your father’s onboard correct?”

“Yes, he’s aware of our intentions and willing to cooperate. Just don’t make too much of a mess for them to clean up, Claude.”

“Well, I can’t guarantee that my retainer won’t at least be a little unwieldy. So, your father can chew my ear out afterward.” He turned to the skinny brunette, “you sure you’re not gonna join us with this expedition, Judith? We can sure use the ol’ hero here.”

Judith stretched her back, “no can do, boy. I already told you, I’m just here for the moral support and to make sure that my men are properly taken care of.”

“Mm, some help you are,” he uttered.

“What was that, boy?”

“Nothing, nothing. Couldn’t ask for a better cheerleader,” he avoided looking at her directly to focus on the rest of the group, “we are going to be in a time-sensitive schedule so we want to take control of the bridge as quickly as we can while the Empire’s troops are left as the only protectors. I wouldn’t want to give them enough time to gather a sizeable amount of reinforcements or allied soldiers. As we have here,” Claude gestured to the large top-down diagram, “we will take advantage of plotting this time. Since we’ve kinda had to fight with our pants down during our last couple of big missions and while I’m a guy that can work on the fly, we can all agree it’s not a sustainable strategy, right?” He watched the nods in the room, “right. The floor’s all yours, my friend,” he held out his palm to Byleth.

The professor wasted no time, “we will be entering the Great Bridge from the east and make our way straight through. We will have three major groups. Claude, I want you to reach the ballista as early as you can and keep it for the duration of the battle. Petra will be your aid and Shamir will accompany you for additional back up. Félix and I will head our group from the north of the center tower, Seteth and Hilda will head the group going the other side. Linhardt as our main healer you’ll also be in my group, Bernadetta with Seteth, Marianne with Claude; thus, any of you should be in range when needing long-distance healing. Is there any opposition to this set up so far?”

A hand rose up.

“Yes, you have to go, Bernadetta.”

The hand fell back down with a whimper.

“I do not understand why my brother should head the front lines, he does too much as it is,” Flayn muttered with apprehension.

“Flayn, please understand, I must contribute where I am needed,” he spoke quietly to contain their conversation before he turned back to Byleth, “I’m fine with my position. You may continue.”

Considering the established history of Byleth’s tactical success, no one else stepped forward, “with the big picture visible, we will go deeper into each faction and role.”

**…**

One meeting down, one more meeting to go. Not as big of steaks, but these things are better dealt with before they became a headache. Claude waited in the hall while Hilda leaned on his desk inside. They would’ve simply picked up Flayn from the war room, but it was a unanimous agreement that they didn’t want to start the barrage of questions from Seteth. Claude kept watch for the short baby-faced Flayn and grinned when he spotted bright colored hair. “We’ve been waitin’ for ya,” he called her over and her hesitation grew when she saw that they weren’t meeting in Hilda’s room. She peered in his room with curious anticipation and made a sharp stop at the entrance. “Well? Come on in, we’re not gonna eat you.”

Flayn’s big eyes faced him while she awkwardly messed with the ruffles on her dress, “I was not expecting to be going into a man’s room. Brother would not be pleased.”

“Hey, hey, it’s just a talk among friends. Nothing weird.”

She moved her attention to Hilda, with a push of self-assurance she stepped inside and took a hold of her hand, “I am so sorry, I had not been a very good friend. I made an unintended but great offense to your character when you have been nothing but kind to me and my brother.”

Claude closed his door behind him. At least they could get straight to the point, “alright let’s get a little more comfortable,” he pointed over to the small table in his room.

They were seated in a circle before Flayn began again, “I was unaware that my choice of words had additional meanings that would suggest a question of your purity. It was not until Claude graciously explained the mistake could I grasp the severe error in my part.”

“So, what _did_ you mean?” Hilda asked, “when you self-corrected the first time, by saying I wasn’t his type, you couldn’t answer that either.”

Flayn’s fingers laced themselves around one of her curls, “I realized that I made a mistake by then and did not know how to respond without creating further upset. To my dismay, my inadequate speech led to further harm instead of helping the situation. My initial outburst of emotion allowed for a truth that I should have never let slip.”

Claude’s ears perked up, “truth?”

“That brother and I are of a…different people,” she confessed in a near whisper.

He stopped himself from immediately leaning in more, “what nation do you two belong to then?”

She wanted to fold into herself, “please. Don’t ask beyond what I have already disclosed. We are not causing any trouble for anyone and I do not wish to invite any negativity towards us.”

“Who would be negative towards you? The Knights and the academy have various people from different races, and they get along pretty well. Heck, look at m—”

“Claude,” Hilda glared at him with an unamused brow.

He responded with his own expression that told her that this could be their big break in the mystery that is Seteth and potentially Rhea. Flayn was _right there_ in their own little private space. Just a few more hints to aid in his digging.

“Drop it.”

He grumbled under his breath. While this conversation already benefited him beyond a minor quarrel being subdued, there was the fact that the scope of his personal investigation was expanded. He was also limited to just the texts that he brought here and what was available to the academy library. Was Seteth so paranoid to discard books of his home country? That’d probably be a little much, then even if he did Claude could just go through the process of elimination.

“I humbly ask, do not think ill of either me or my brother. He has been very happy to have found an illustrator for his stories and I do not want that taken away because of something I said,” she took Hilda’s hand again into her own.

“Okay, okay, okay. That’s enough,” she took back her hand from her and gave Flayn a hug, who was notably out of her depth with the action, “I forgive you. It was a communication mix-up and I just overreacted. You’re good.”

Flayn pulled away, “a-are you sure? My tone was quite harsh.”

“Do you want me to make you beg for forgiveness? That wouldn’t be right. Besides, as I said: I get it. You’re picky over who gets close to your brother. Figures, you hadn’t been exposed to the idea enough to know that about yourself.”

“I had not been made aware until thinking over our conversation. I was much more accustomed to others being afraid of my brother than I am proud to admit. Though, I still do not know what is the most appropriate way to approach these feelings,” she said.

Claude smiled, “don’t worry too much, Flayn, I still think he’s scary.”

“Oh stop, Claude. No one asked you.”

Flayn began to be more at ease to allow a giggle.

“There we go. Everyone’s gotta smile, now I consider this meeting a success,” he got up, “wanna join us for our trip to the market, Flayn?”

“That sounds lovely,” she began, “but I have some um, lessons I need to tend to. Perhaps another time.”

Just like that, Claude lost his shot to pick at her brain today. Then again, Hilda wouldn’t be on his side with this either. Crazy since wasn’t she dying to get into her _dashing_ crush’s head? “Hey Flayn, since it was brought up. Humor us, will you? What kind of woman does your brother like anyways? Besides preferring his own, obviously.”

Flayn watched her hands as she interlaced her delicate fingers, “I suppose that has been a point of contention that I had invited into the conversation.” She paused before she found a sureness in her words, “he cares for someone intelligent, elegant, kind, devout, mature, practical, and strong. Someone who deeply loves to fish and can cook the best dishes with her catch.”

 _Oh boy._ She described someone and that someone wasn’t Hilda. Considering the silent screaming he read in her face; she knew it too and most likely who. _I tried to warn you, Hil._ “Ah, so that’s what he’s into. Very enlightening. I guess we all learned a lot today,” he walked beside the green girl to her exit. “You and Hilda learned to take the language barrier into account. I learned that I need to make more male friends and keep my mouth shut. Good luck with your studies, Flayn, let’s have tea and cake sometime,” he waved.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Hilda made her way past him after Flayn was out of sight.

“Hey, wait up,” Claude went back to shut and lock his door before he caught up to her. “You wanna talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about? It’s not like anything happened or anything was ever going to happen. So, he likes someone else. _Wah._ Nothing that I can control.”

Claude glanced around the hall, “do you wanna go chop up some wood or throw your hand ax at targets?”

“No. I knew I was just lying to myself. Just had to stop wasting my time by dragging out the inevitable. Seriously, I’m gonna be fine.”

He pulled on his earring, “what about the book?”

“What about it?”

“Well, I think since…”

“I’m not going to punish him for not liking me back. I promised until either the war’s over or we finish. Besides, you wanted to see it, right?”

He nodded, “I do, but…”

“Then there you go; I have enough reasons to keep going.”

Claude placed his hand on her shoulder with one of his softer smiles, “well if you ask me, you’re the kindest, mature, most stylish, and strongest fighter I know.”

She stopped reawakened, “hey you’re right! Who says I don’t have most of those qualities, I’m mostly his type—”

 _There she goes._ He attempted to bring her back to reality, “Hilda, are you going to touch a fish? You know you have to gut a fish before cooking it. Are you going to _gut_ a fish, Hilda?”

“…No…” she slumped her shoulders as she went back to walking.

“See, it could never work,” he shrugged.

“You can’t hang the balance of a relationship on _fish_ , y’know? I can learn to get over it…maybe.”

“I’d pay some good gold to see that first attempt. Man, you better tell me cuz now I really need to see that. _‘Eeeww, it’s all slimy,'”_ he pinched his fingers in a dainty manner as if he held up a fish by its tail, _“’ what do you mean I can’t cut the fish from a meter away?’”_

“I’m not _that_ bad! I know how to cook,” she turned her head up as she crossed her arms.

He wasn’t going to point out that the dramatization was the optimistic path, “uh-huh.” He breathed in the fresh outside air and managed to get a whiff of the greenhouse not far from this end of the dorm building. “I’m serious though. I’m gonna see if I can find Raphael later and do some good male bonding like men. Talk about manly things like our workout regimen and how to get bigger muscles, see if we can catch our biggest latest kill, then eat the cooked meat from the bone.”

She was unimpressed, “now that’s something that _I’d_ have to see to believe. So, does this mean that you’re not going to help me paint my nails tonight?”

“I thought we said that we keep that between us. I got an image I need to maintain,” he squared his shoulders.

She eyed him over, “so you’re not at least a little bit into men, Claude? I know you flirt with everyone, but I mean really.”

Claude ran his fingers through his hair, “what can I say, I’m a charmer. The women flock and the men are left wanting in more ways than one,” he wriggled his brows.

Hilda wrapped her arm around his, “you’re something else.”

“There she is, three for three. I can say today was a pretty good success,” he gave her a squeeze.

**…**

Seteth looked over at his calendar with a notepad beside him. He preferred to make any modifications to his dates as clean as possible, while he worked out his thought process elsewhere.

The monthly Alliance roundtable was coming up, so Claude, Judith, and a handful of men would be away. Which left the remainder of the army in his and the professor’s care until they returned. Double checking that everything was ready for the trip shouldn’t take much time, so he could move that at the same time with the order of additional provisions. As it went, with the accumulation of more troops, their supplies began to deplete at a quicker rate than the month prior. It didn’t help that there were members of overeaters within their army, he was going to have to arrange a meeting to address the issue publicly. Said meetings should occur soon, rather than give people reason to make false comparisons between what they could have then and now. He wrote a note to himself to speak to Claude and the professor about making the announcement before Claude’s departure.

He followed through like this for his other tasks. Since Byleth was not yet ready to take over in the church, he blocked the time required for the church services and confession. His spirit pulled him towards a message about the virtue of perseverance. Such a subject could be made into a series of messages. Yes, a series that would be useful in everyday life and not just contained within a life of faith, those always tended to be the services he enjoyed heading most. He patted his pocket for his personal notebook of ideas and loose writings. Seteth flipped through the book until he reached the points he jotted down about the subject.

He dipped his pen and allowed his thoughts to freely wander, he supposed this was what the professor meant by enjoying oneself. Writing was a side pastime that used to be regulated to the confines of his journals and the time he had to himself. Now, he was expected to write, there was an audience willing to listen to his ever-developing craft, and two promising collaborators for projects he mulled over for years. There was reason to be content with all that, wasn’t there? Small blessings during times of chaos that kept one from drowning. 

There was a knock on the side of his office entrance, “hello there.”

“Ah Hilda, I have been thinking about you,” he welcomed her as he set down his pen.

She froze.

He caught his error and covered his face, “I mean, I had made my adjustments for our next training session. My apologies, I should have worded that better.” He tugged on his collar as he stood from his chair, “it’s a little later than we are used to, but would tomorrow at 15:00 work for you?” He pointed at the calendar he had taken from the wall and written on.

“O-oh,” she made her way to his desk and looked, “um, sure. That works.”

She wasn’t the type to be enthusiastic about training. He knew that. But even so, she tended to maintain a certain pep in her step. “Are you alright, is it something I can help you with?” He guessed it was related to her visit to his office.

Her eyes only gave him a glimpse, but she otherwise kept them on his desk, “I’m fine, I just had a question about…”

Seteth’s gaze observed with her, “oh. This,” he moved the sheets of paper that obstructed her view and held an inked drawing up. “Bernadetta drew them. She’s kindly going to be working with me on a personal project about the Four Saints.”

“But what about our book?”

“Oh, there’s no need to worry about that. It will continue on as it has been, neither schedules should clash with each other.”

“So, I guess you don’t have to settle for me as your illustrator anymore,” the mere suggestion of their partnership split forced his grin down.

“I never saw you as settling. This is…”

“A hundred times better than anything I can ever come up with.”

“I don’t believe that,” he looked over at the drawing again.

“It’s alright. You should have art that’s actually _good_ , not _careless_ like mine,” she gave a distant grin.

He walked over and shut his office doors before he turned to her, “I was wrong. I should have been aware of how a word like ‘careless’ would be disrespectful, no matter how early that was in our partnership. I admit, you have proved my early self wrong time and time again. And I want you to keep proving him wrong. Bernadetta struggles in ways that you nor I can completely comprehend. I didn’t ask her, she felt comfortable enough to come forward, and I want her to have the same opportunity as I gave you.”

“I don’t want to be some project that you fix.”

“I cannot _fix_ anyone. I can only hope that my words help you towards your path. In spite of my own shortcomings to do just that—as I need to be reminded of, what you have accomplished are your own and solely your own. Discounting yesterday, you have respected our time since the first session. I didn’t pull you from your room to the training grounds or cut corners to make lances tolerable for you. Nor have you ever been late with a sub-par submission. I didn’t gather your references or make constant suggestions as to how your art should look. You go out. You sketch. You paint. You ink. And you bring in something that you are proud of. I will take no credit for that and I will keep taking no credit for it.”

Her eyes kept their focus on the floor while she rubbed her arm, “but why keep someone who’s worse? Seems like a waste to me.”

“Because you are the kind of person who doesn’t quit when it truly means something to you and not only that, but you place yourself in your efforts. You add to the text rather than just present it. Don’t forget that it was through your input that Milly has a name, I wouldn’t have thought to do the same. I see that and I deeply _admire_ that about you. To anyone else, these are just little stories. To me and you, they’re more. Why would I ever want anyone else?” She gave him that look again, and once more he reassessed his words, “what I’m trying to say, you shouldn’t worry about being replaced as an artist.” Perhaps this is where Flayn got her ideas from, his pathetic speaking gaffes. It’d been a while since Seteth got the urge to hide away for any other reason outside of self-preservation and he wanted to do just that more than once within this visit. He succeeded in having insulted and making what could be mistaken as a confession to the same artist.

“You probably need a nap, Seteth,” Hilda peered over at him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “I probably do. I’ll schedule that for next week.”

 _“Pfft,”_ she began to chuckle to herself.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking, maybe you should write a sequel,” those pink eyes regained that personal shine of hers, “where the fox teaches the squirrel to go out and relax. Enjoy the sights, smell the roses, y’know?”

He smiled with her, “I actually like that idea a lot.” He snapped his fingers to wake himself up, “Yes. You needed something, that’s right.” He was such a mess today.

“It isn’t anything extreme,” she pulled out the paper that clung to her belt, “I was just wanting a bit of clarification for this part of your story. It’s kinda confusing here,” she pointed.

“Oh, good. It’s best to catch these things before the final draft. Thank you,” he took the sheet in his hand. “I do hope that you and Bernadetta can be friends, you are both very sweet and creative with your hands. Maybe work together someday,” he positioned himself so they could look over the manuscript together.

Hilda rose a brow with a cheeky purse of her lips, “…for another book of yours?”

“No, no. Nothing like that,” he replied innocently, “but if you’re suggesting I have been toying with a few ideas…”

She gave him a playful push, “let’s finish what we have on our plate now and then we’ll talk about it, Mr. Author.”

“That’s fair. That’s fair,” he turned back to sheet read it over with her. Yes, he was enjoying himself a little more these days. Chaos and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a bit of time to work on this time around. First, there was the fact that my palette cleanser (https://i.redd.it/xcfymw30vbg41.png) took longer to draw than I was intending (side note: I draw a palette cleanser to give my writing brain a little break and give my drawing brain something to be productive with. I have an instagram if you're curious @blackmoongirl). Then, I also spent time grinding through the Abyss side story. Lastly, this chapter didn't come out as easily as most of the other ones. There's a whole lot that I like, but it wasn't like a run through scene by scene. It was more like a sprint, then go back and go through some parts again. In the end I'm happier how it turned out rather than trying to force a run and ending with a more "meh, it's fine but..." I'm just uber excited for the next chapter. 
> 
> Man, Abyss mode just reminded me about how I thought I knew exactly how Seteth's character was going to go the first time he was introduced. I thought I was going to hate his character because "YAWN! Cliche evil religious mage cuz the church is always evil lulz." Am I happy to be wrong. As a Christian it always does my heart good to see some positive spiritual characters, even if they're flawed and have a grouchy outside. While Three Houses isn't "YAY Church good!" It has respect for the audience to give a positive and a negative mentality of the church with the duality of Seteth and Rhea's characters respectively. And I'm in the camp of "Rhea isn't THAT bad. She's bad. But she's more misguided/clouded in grief than evil."
> 
> Edit: Why doesn't Claude have any bros?? It's something else when I have to think back and be like "wait a minute--he doesn't have any close guy friends. No, he has to...*checks supports* NO HE DOESN'T." Don't get me wrong, I'm cool with him having a lot of platonic friends that are girls (eeeyyy, writing one of them right now). But where is the best bro lovin'? All he has really is Byleth and that's just not the same.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lance tournament: in where Hilda begins to question if she's actually stupid short for this sport.

There was a clamor. There were whispers and looks at the petite pink woman as she checked her placement in the list.

“Ha, she showed. Pay up,” an unmounted paladin held out his hand to receive his merger win.

There was a whisper back, “no payment till she actually gets in the arena and doesn’t forfeit.”

“Be careful with that one, give the girl an ax and she’ll tear you to shreds. And if Holst hears that you nicked ‘er I wouldn’t put it past him for him to come down here and end you himself.”

“Now you’re just flappin lips. Holst has better things to do than waste his blade on us. ‘Sides she ain’t got an ax and chose to be here, she cries it’s no skin off my bones.”

“Your word versus hers. Who wins? His baby sister or the idiot who roughs her up?”

“So, Fredrick, make sure you don’t bruise. Clean and easy win and say you’re sorry fifty times and five more for good measure. And if there’s a single tear, know you’re a dead man.”

“Clean and easy, that’s for sure. Was she always that short? I didn’t notice so much before.”

“You didn’t notice cuz you’re too busy noticing everything else,” several laughs followed.

“Now _you_ really wanna die. You think Seteth is scary, just watch. You just watch.”

“Show the little lady some respect, I bet she’s saved your behind more than once.”

A pegasus knight kept her hands at her hips, “Hey girlie, you know that the ax tournament isn’t till a few months from now?”

Hilda focused on grabbing a training lance from the rack.

“Hey there beautiful, glad to have you brightening up the place,” Sylvain walked up to Hilda with that easy grin, “Never thought I’d get the chance of seeing you in a training outfit. Suits you really nice, how about after you and I go out and have some actual fun in town?”

Ingrid interjected herself as she pulled him back, “don’t you ever have anything better to do than flirt? Honestly, I can’t go anywhere with you.” She rolled her eyes, “please, ignore him.”

Hilda smiled, “don’t worry about it. Sylvie isn’t doing any harm, right?”

The blonde looked over to the shameless redhead with an emphasized glare, “the headache is harm enough.” She turned her attention to Hilda, “I’m honestly surprised to see you here. I’d expect that Seteth would spend a little more time with you before recommending signing up. I also thought he was busy today,” she glanced around at the crowd to see if he was part of the spectators.

“He is.”

“Oh,” Ingrid gave up on her search with a puzzled look, “ _did_ he recommend you being here?”

She tightened her ponytail, “what? I kept hearing that these things are great practice, so I thought ‘why not give it a go?’ Make better use of my time ‘n’ all.”

“That’s the spirit! Sylvain and I need to look at the list before the tournament starts in a bit,” she gave a nod towards the board where other participants were gathered. “Good luck, Hilda. Do your best,” she waved.

_Why couldn’t I be going up against a jerk?_

“That’s right! I have heard Seteth has taken up a student.”

“Wait. Goneril? You sure that’s right? I don’t see the man anywhere.”

“Would you show up for a one-round loss? I’d have better things to do too.”

He would have come. If she said something, he’d be here. The real question was: what was she doing here? Even if this was an ax tournament, she wouldn’t have bothered. She was the shortest one and even the women looked down on her.

“You have caused quite the stir around the ruffians,” Lorenz took his place to her left with his training lance in hand. “Ah well, what it is to live without the expectation of carrying oneself in a dignified manner to immerse themselves in such squabble, am I right?” 

“If I was dignified, I’d drop out and save everyone the trouble,” Hilda muttered to herself. Then again, that one paladin who believed in her would lose his bet.

“Hmm?”

“Oh, nothing.” No way she was going to win the gold and lance, what use did she have for either of those things anyway? She had one goal and she planned to knock out those who got in her way.

The tournament master stepped forward in his grappling wares, “we will be starting the advanced lance tournament in a few minutes— any of you coming in now, the list of your beginning placement and opponent is on the left side of the training grounds.

Par usual to any other tournaments that may involve classes with mounted units, everyone will remain unmounted for the preliminary rounds. If you don’t have a mount already assigned to you, tough luck, we won’t be providing them for you. Should have thought about that before you got here today.” The head of the tournaments scanned the crowd around him and gave a tilt of the head to any late participants towards the placement of the list as he went on, “this tournament operates in a three-hit system. Three hits or you yield, you’re done. If you’re getting tired out Cheryl, one of our bishops, is our volunteer to give any of you a quick patch up in between each round,” he held out his hand to bring attention to the sweet sandy blonde older woman who stood on the right corner next to a wooden stool.

Cheryl waved.

“Remember, she can only help you out twice throughout the entire tournament. So be smart before blubbering all over her after the first round.” He turned his focus to the spectators, “any of you watching, that is all you’re allowed to do: watch. You can cheer or boo or bet on the sidelines, but if I see any of you handing anything to the contestants, not only are you and your buddy out, you won’t be allowed to spectate any more of the tournaments. This goes for throwing things or using physic for long-distance healing. Don’t think you’re being sneaky; I’ve been doing this longer than some of you been around. That said, let’s get this thing started, shall we? Today we will be competing for 5,000 gold and an upgraded silver lance.

Preliminary round, pair one: Conrad v Rhode. You have two minutes to get ready and down here.”

A stocky female paladin and a slightly taller thin male holy knight made their way to the cleared fighting space. The noise within the contestants and viewers started back up again, with a few patting and pushing on the approaching man and woman out of encouragement.

“Who do you think is going to get this one, Lorenz?”

“Rhode. I have seen Conrad enough in battle to know she tends to default into whacking away. How she ever passed her exams, I will never know,” he leaned in his stance while he maintained a poised posture.

“Are you betting on anyone?” The short pink noble eyed those near them already arguing over who the winner would be.

Lorenz gave a haughty snicker, “waste my time with such an uncouth pastime as gambling?”

“You’re too smart for that, huh?”

“Why of course. A noble should always be wise with his finances, lest he allows himself to fall into ruin.”

Well, she heard that story before. The voices lowered as the tournament master rose his hands to silence the crowd. He turned to Conrad and Rhode, “this is the last time to forfeit if you want to do so. If not, during any time in battle you want out, raise your hand towards your opponent and call ‘yield.’ In either case, the win goes to the other side. I want this to be a fair fight. No magic, the only weapon you’re allowed to use is that lance in your hands. No aiming for the neck up. If a yield is called, stop. If you’re going too hard, I will give you one vocal warning. Remember, you’re not trying to kill the person in front of you. If I see any of this you’re disqualified, clear?”

Conrad and Rhode indicated that they understood.

“Alright. Shake, give yourselves the space you need, and begin,” the tournament master made his way back to the sidelines.

**…**

“Preliminary round, pair four: Goneril v Kelda, you’re up.”

The commotion directed to Hilda at her arrival revved back up with a vengeance. Fortunately, she kept herself at the front row beside Lorenz, so she didn’t get the same pushing and prodding treatment that others were subjected to upon their walk to the arena. Fredrick, on the other hand, was taunted by members of his circle with a mix of questions and instructions. If he had his funeral ready. Don’t bruise. Don’t wander too much with those eyes.

Fredrick was one of those “no sir, yes ma’am” types. Tall. Short brown hair with a mild waviness. A couple of years older than Hilda. Light eight out of ten. Crestless. More of a knightly type with a mix of awkwardness when it was outside of the battlefield. She caught him looking at her before today on more than one occasion. Going by the nervous chuckle he gave her when they were face to face, the poor sap already lost. The tournament master gave them his spiel as the did the participants prior. The almond Fredrick outstretched his hand to her. “Go easy on me, okay?” She peppered her tone in sugar, “I’m still new to this sorta stuff,” she admitted as she took his hand.

His grip was respectfully light, “that’s alright. Just try your best.”

“You’re very sweet. Maybe I’ll learn a few things from you, hmm?” She gave him a wink before she released her hold. They went into their respective sides; she gave a pause and looked at her feet before she got into position.

“See, what did I say? This round will be over like that. Watch.”

Hilda moved her steps with his. He was slow and focused on the simplest openings. Fredrick tightened his grip on the lance and outstretched himself to make a clean strike at her. She used that evade to get close enough to make a tap to his stomach.

“Goneril, one,” the tournament master called.

“You’re goin’ too soft, on ‘er. Get in there, boy!”

Fredrick glanced over to his left in irritation to the heckling. Dumb move since the moment of disruption permitted Hilda to catch up within his space again. He leaped back, avoided another strike, and managed to get a tap to her side.

“Kelda, one.”

“Quick and easy, boy! Stop trippin’ on yourself!”

She couldn’t ask for a better crowd. They were the right kind of obnoxious and distracting to her favor. Fredrick circled her and she kept with his flow. He accelerated the pace. She blocked the wooden blade with the handle of her lace. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Whack. Whack. Whack. Whack. Whack. Upon the fifth, she used the pullback to get out of his succession attack range and hit his open side.

“Goneril, two.”

There was a hoot, there was a holler.

“What in the Goddess’s good name are you doing?!”

“Looks like you idiots are gonna be owing me some good money. Those Goneril are fighting machines even the little ones. Haw haw haw!”

“Shut up, Monroe. The whelp hasn’t lost yet.”

“Atta girl!” Sylvain was heard from the crowd.

“Keep going, Hilda! You’re doing great,” Ingrid called out.

Hilda was broken out of her focus and only woke back up with Fredrick’s jab of her right shoulder.

“Kelda, two.” 

She rolled her shoulders back and took a deep breath before she got back into position.

“You’re actually not half bad,” Fredrick finally spoke again while he decided his next move.

Hilda gave an amused tilt of her head, “thank you. I’ve been practicing something outta my comfort zone. Tests, y’know?”

“You’ve changed from back then, eh?”

“Nah, still same old me. I just have a tutor who doesn’t play around.”

“This ain’t a damn tea party! Quit your jabbering and finish ‘er, boy!”

“Good friend of yours?”

His chuckle flashed, “I guess, one day I got sort of stuck with him. He’s better when he doesn’t have money on the line and well, drunk.”

“You mean ‘ _or_ ,’ right?”

“No, I mean ‘ _and_.’”

“Mm, well I guess we shouldn’t keep your buddy waiting.” The crowd continued with their commotion. Who would’ve figured that the starting rounds would have caused such a bustle, then again from their words and how she was received the time of her arrival apparently, her participation was an event. Holst’s little sister who has never willingly partaken in anything remotely optional. On top of it being with a weapon that was never her first choice.

She felt the shift of the tempo in his steps. He probably realized that she was going to maintain her defensive stance and opt out of being the first one to progress offensively. He kept his distance and threatened her with a few stabs to the air towards her to test if he could trigger her to act. She honed in her concentration towards him further. She needed to get near him, just one shot. Neither had a hit to spare on being clumsy and they were fully aware of that. Fredrick sucked in a lungful air as he lunged towards her with force, she used the shaft of her lance to disperse the power of the strike and guided him forward to expose him and got rid of the gap between them. He awkwardly reached his lance over to block, but there was no denying that he was cornered. It meant going from one side to another.

“Goneril, three. Match done.”

The pause of silence was cut off upon the announcement. There were astonished jeers. There were unrestrained swears. Contestants and spectators alike were at an uproar, one would have thought that Hilda won the whole competition and not simply made it through the initial weed out round.

With the deep sigh he released Fredrick knew he was never going to live this early loss down, “Good match,” he held out his hand again.

“Sorry, I bet your friend isn’t going to be all that happy with you.”

His shake was firm this time around, “who knows, maybe this time he’ll learn his lesson and not bet more than he’s willing to lose. Good luck with the rest of ‘em.”

“Thanks, Freddy,” she gave a wave with her fingers as she went back to where Lorenz stood.

“That was quite the spectacular display,” Lorenz chuckled in amusement, “simply marvelous. Of course, I have always known that your skill for combat isn’t something to be underestimated. It is in your elite blood.”

“My blood doesn’t account for everything.” The extra lance sessions, luck, and the crowd did most of the helping if she was honest with herself.

She nearly jumped out of her shoes when a hand pulled her back, “I’m buying all the drinks you want anytime you want, Shorty. Least I can do for showing these bastards what’s what.”

She chuckled nervously as she lowered her fist, “heh heh, how nice of you.”

“Have you no common decency?” Lorenz shooed away the bald, older wyvern lord, “the nerve of people.”

The tournament master’s walk to the center of the arena was greeted by the calming of the training grounds as they waited for the next contenders. “Preliminary round, pair five: Ellwood v Galatea, you’re up.”

The mass shifted their attention onto the new rivals, though two falcon knights didn’t cause quite the same stir as a 154 cm lance user who was known to only use axes. Hilda, on the other hand, had her attention only at the blonde falcon knight. Everyone else was background noise. She watched as Ingrid left Sylvain’s side with a pointed finger to behave before she waded her way to the cleared center.

Lorenz began this round, “tell me, Hilda. Who do you believe will have this match?”

“Ingrid.” There’d be no point in being here if either of them had lost so quickly. Fortunately, Hilda did manage to eke out a win in her first match. Fredrick was taller and stronger than Ingrid and she had a few more lessons with Seteth since she signed up. There was a chance.

The women stared each other down in silence. They moved in step with the other, as was the way of the Pegasus user there was finesse to their action. The auburn Alena Ellwood made it clear that she wanted to take control. There were clacks from the lances. Hilda read that she wasn’t as clean of an opponent as Seteth was to Ingrid. Sure enough, with a strategic evade Ingrid made a succession of jabs to the other knight.

“Galatea, two.”

Alena attempted to salvage how far behind she had fallen. She operated more defensively to Ingrid’s dance but couldn’t outpace her speed.

“Galatea, three. Match done.”

There was a notable twitch in Hilda’s eye. She didn’t hear the audience around her. _That_ was quick and easy.

**…**

_Seteth stroked the side of his wyvern’s head while they stood at an open field outside Garreg Mach, “when engaging a fight while mounted, your hands are operating two different things at the same time.” The male reptile yawned, “one, will be steering your mount. The other will carry your weapon.” He teetered his head, “nothing new nor surprising. We must do the same when operating with axes, yes?”_

“Round one, Pair two: Gautier v Goneril. You’re up.”

The attention shifted to where Hilda and Sylvain were upon the announcement. Both made their way to retrieve their mounts. Lorenz gave her the wish of good luck before she set off. Since she wasn’t walking from the front row to the arena, she made her way through the group. Most had manners to step aside with or without being asked. Others she maneuvered her way around. All of them had something to say. Whether encouragement or the likeliness that her short-lived run would stop here, she gave a smile in response all the same. Only the group of the former would dare touch her in any aspect. Short or not, they all knew she could still break any of their kneecaps. Added with the ever-lingering threat of Holst hunting any of them down, none were stupid enough to overstep their bounds.

Hilda took a stretch when out into the open. “Okay, girl. We’re next,” she walked up to where her wyvern waited among others. Hilda scratched under the wyvern’s chin, to which she leaned in demanding more. Crystal reiterated the demand with a hiss when Hilda stopped. “Spoiled baby,” she scolded the beast as she complied, “everyone’s waiting on us and I’m not gonna lose just cuz you wanted more scratches.” The wyvern watched her movements as she untied her from her assigned post. Crystal walked forward until she recognized that she was being led into the training grounds. The wyvern began pulling back, disinterested in going anywhere inside there, “Come on, the tournament is in here,” Hilda tugged her with more force. Crystal responded in the same manner. “Crissy, baby, you…ugh…gotta work with me,” Hilda was the handler, she wasn’t going to have the world order thrown into chaos by allowing a wyvern to be her boss.

“Havin’ trouble?” Sylvain was in the process of taking his horse over to the arena.

She didn’t want to risk loosening her hold and Crystal flying back to the stables, “I’m fine. Could you be a sweetheart and hand me the pack in her left pouch of the saddle?”

The redhead stroked the black horse’s nuzzle as a signal for the horse to stay put for a minute, “yeah, sure,” he ran over to the saddle and rummaged for a large sack. “Here we are,” he held the bag to her with a smirk, “so what’s my reward, hmm?”

“Aww, my hero,” she snatched the bag from him before he thought to give her more of a fight, “thanks, I’ll be inside in a sec.” She wrapped Crystal’s reigns on the hand that still clung to her for a strengthened grip. “Look, baby. Treats!” She opened the pack a little to allow the smell of jerky to catch Crystal’s attention. The large reptile leaned her head to the sack and made another irritated sound as the bag was pulled away, “nuh-uh. No yummy treats until you listen. First, we get inside and then you can have one. ‘Kay?” Hilda tugged on the reigns again as a queue to cooperate. The brown reptile gave a reluctant huff as she stomped forward towards the large double doors, “that’s it. C’mon.”

“Gautier, Goneril, you coming?” The tournament master called from the center of the arena as Hilda was coming in. She made her way to her end of the arena hoping that Crystal wouldn’t try to bolt since there were too many people and noises in a space she didn’t like to begin with.

Hilda praised the wyvern with a couple of generously sized strips of jerky and an affectionate pat.

The aged soldier looked over at the dark knight and wyvern rider then said his words with a few modifications to account for the mount. Things such as those being disqualified if those with flying mounts fly out of the confines of the training grounds and dropping your lance would be considered an immediate loss. Both reasonable amendments.

Crystal managed to remain calm up until Hilda was mounted and the racket started up again. Being allowed to have distance between her and the ground aided in releasing some energy. Some. The wyvern gave a low rumble and snapped her jaw at whatever direction she felt the noise was loudest, her focus was honed forward to her actual opponent with the proper turn of her head. Much to Sylvain and the horse’s dismay, they became the target of Crystal’s aggression.

“ _Woah_ get a grip on your wyvern, Hilda,” the redhead tried to keep himself steady while Crystal hovered like a vulture which caused much unease to his horse.

She pulled her mount back, “sorry, she’s thinking you’re a bad guy now.” Outside of the occasional flying chores or travel, Crystal tended to lay easy until she was needed for battle after the first initial month of getting used to her handler. That was six years ago since she had a friendly spar.

The rest in the arena caught on to the situation and her entertainment value grew further.

“This match is as good as done; Shorty can’t even control her damn beast.”

“I don’t know, the horse is pretty spooked. Gautier might be more stuck than her.”

“You think a short arm could get in a shot? Shorty may have been able to get all close and personal in the preliminaries, here there’s two beasts blockin’ her path. Have a brain, will ya?”

“Should I add to my bet or no? This is a toss-up if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Why isn’t the tournament master sayin’ anything? Is the old man blind?”

“As long as the wyvern ain’t biting anybody, why should he?”

_Seteth directed Hilda, “get into position A and show me a mid-attack. Good. Up attack. Down. Double jab. Excellent. What do you notice? You don’t see it? Alright. Try again but pay attention to what you’re doing.” He stayed silent as she repeated her movements and still, she was puzzled, “try again, this time only make use of your dominant hand. Place the other behind your back.” She stumbled in holding the pole with confidence which was diminished by each botched strike. “That’s right. Your arm is doing double the work. You can’t work one-handed with a lance the same way you would with an ax. The key is two things: your grip. Center of the handle, firm,” he held his wooden lance where she needed to. “Loosening your grip when engaged could mean a quick and immediate loss if you cannot switch weapons almost instantaneously. You must also maintain a steady hold if you intend on hitting your target with any accuracy.”_

Not letting go was her goal at that moment, keeping Crystal from making true of her threats was her second. One grip on Crystal. One grip on the training lance. The good thing about being a wyvern rider is that you can fly. There were windows that Sylvain would attempt a strike at her, or Crystal would get too close without her say, each time she hauled her wyvern up and back. After two or three times of being motioned ‘no,’ Crystal stepped down in her hostility, she went for baring her sharp teeth and made growls over chomping at the air. She may have been doing better, this didn’t mean that the pink flier was able to rest easy. Hilda had to finish this quick. 

_“Second, you will still be using your other hand to propel the needed force you’re implementing on your weapon, but it will be through your mount. You will be transferring the momentum from your wyvern to your attack.”_

The right hit. That’s what she needed. Something to knock out the lance from his hand. The dark knight struggled to calm the unease of his steed, much too preoccupied to have his mind in the match. Hilda lowered Crystal closer to Sylvain, to which the horse neighed and stepped backward to add distance between it and the giant creature.

“H-hey, cut it out,” Sylvain leaned towards the horse’s neck to maintain his balance while the hand that was on his reigns tightened their grip.

“This ain’t the time to play, Shorty!”

“This match is gonna last all day at this rate.”

Hilda did another wrap around Crystal’s reigns, “alright, girl. I know you don’t want to be here,” she said low only to the wyvern, “follow directions and you’ll be back outside in a minute.” She drew the wyvern for another reversal, as she had the previous times. Hilda pulled back the wyvern only a smidge further, enough to lull into what this match’s cycle has become within the past minutes. With the sudden signal triggered by a push from her foot, the wyvern made a harsh barrel towards the redhead. Sylvain didn’t have time to try to redirect his horse or his arm to block. The shoulder that carried his lance was struck; the wooden blade sent vibrations throughout his black armor. The sensation and shock to his worn-down grip were enough.

The clatter of the wooden lance meeting the stone was the only sound across the arena.

“Lance down. Match done. Win goes to Goneril.”

“Haw haw haw!! Shorty has done it again!”

“That shouldn’t count! That was too sloppy of handling that wyvern! Rematch!”

“Looked like a clean hit to me. Shorty is Claude’s right hand; they belong to the sneaky type. Too smart for a peabrain like you, haw haw!”

Hilda turned her head to the excited spectators. She internally chastised herself, Seteth had no clue she was even here. She had no reason to look for him. She unmounted from her saddle and after needed rubs for Crystal, she made her way to Sylvain, “are you okay?”

Sylvain swiveled his shoulder, “when I say I like it rough; this wasn’t what I had in mind,” the fact that he was joking was a good sign that he wasn’t too upset with her. “I’ll be feeling this later, but I’ll live. I don’t believe I’ve seen a livelier crowd in these things and they’re already loud.” He took her hand for a shake, “you sure you don’t wanna do something after?”

“Nah, the only plans I have for ‘after’ is doing absolutely nothing for the rest of the day. I’m already pretty beat,” she told him before she went to take the annoyed wyvern out of the arena.

…

“Thinking about the next match, Sweetheart?” Cheryl’s hands glowed as they hovered close to Hilda for a healing boost.

Her fingers drummed on her leg as she sat on the stool, “a bit.” A lot. Ingrid had won her round without half the hassle. The question kept returning.

“Round two, pair two: Galatea v Goneril. You’re next.”

“Good luck, sweetie, be careful out there,” the bishop said over the chatter.

 _What was she doing here?_ Hilda had developed justifications throughout the tournament. She was here for all that great practice everyone has told her about. She was curious to see how far she could go in a setting like this. She wanted to prove to others that she did more than just lay around until it was time for a mission. She wanted to show to herself that she was just as good. Although, the question refused to go away. 

Hilda glanced to see that she had made her way outside of the training grounds. “This is our last fight for the day,” she told Crystal as she pulled out the sack from the saddle pack, “good thing since you would’ve spoiled your dinner.”

“Hey, Hilda.”

“Ingrid! Hi! Guess we’re up next, huh?”

The falcon knight nodded, “seems so, it’s too bad. I kind of wanted to observe what you were going to do next.”

Hilda shrugged with a giggle, “I know, I’m such a mess in there. Nowhere near the grace you have, you’re like a ballerina.”

“Huh,” Ingrid shifted her footing, “I didn’t mean it like that. Though, I will be honest with you. I did misjudge how far you would come in the tournament, especially since it was outside of Seteth’s recommendation. Sure, you’re not a polished lance user but you’re undoubtedly resourceful.”

“That’s…so nice of you to say. Thanks,” she didn’t know how long she could keep the smile up, “well, they’re waiting for us. Let’s get to it.”

The slim blonde ran her fingers through her pegasus’ mane, “right. I just wanted you to know that win or lose, you did a pretty good job. I’ll see you inside.”

 _Damn it. I can’t stand it. I just can’t stand it._ Hilda simmered behind. _‘Win or lose.’ I’m going to win! You may be better at everything else, but Gonerils are the best of warriors!_ Crystal’s low rumble barely registered, she thought it was coming from herself as she reentered through the large doors to the arena.

“Give us a good show, Shorty!”

“’ Ey Shorty! You better win, I’ll be getting some good eats from this one!”

 _Shorty._ That might as well be her name at this point as far as everyone in this room was concerned. Hilda still hadn’t decided if she liked that more than _Holst’s little sister._ She knew she was short. But she’s not that short! Who was she kidding? Little Lysithea even outgrew her. If only she was a few more centimeters.

Hilda gave another cheerful disposition for the handshake. “Don’t let your guard down, Hilda,” she said to herself as she climbed onto the saddle, “you can do this.”

Crystal flapped her webbed wings with a screech. Unfortunately, Ingrid’s pegasus could also fly. Avoiding hits weren’t going to be as simple as they were with Sylvain. Pegasi were also nimbler than a bulky wyvern, thus speed was also on Ingrid’s side.

The falcon knight kept true to her strategy so far. She aimed for a fast win, her face defaulting to that stern expression. Her pegasus glided as an extension of herself.

Hilda jerked on her wyvern’s reigns to avoid the wooden weapon. She bit her lip. _Come on, Shorty. What’s your master plan for this?_ She couldn’t distract Ingrid with flirting, nor could she use Crystal’s hostility and flight to corner her. The pink flier went through several scenarios, each of them had some sort of fault, each of them just made the question louder.

“Hilda! Watch it!” Ingrid had to maneuver her flying horse away from Crystal’s near bite.

“Calm down, girl,” Hilda remembered she had to keep track of Crystal as well as Ingrid’s lance. She had to focus on dodging. She couldn’t let go of her lance. What was she doing here? She managed to block a strike. Her body shuddered as the force spread from her one-handed grip. She swung the lance to drive Ingrid away from her space and back. Unfortunately, she couldn’t drive the falcon knight too far back since her reach wasn’t up to par and Crystal’s long neck only added slightly to the distance. _Out of all the petty crap you’ve done in your life._

“Shorty, stop making ‘er chase your tail ‘n’ get ‘er!”

“What are you even doing, Shorty??”

 _This had to be the pettiest._ The complicated seething bubbling in her belly failed to let up. What did any of this accomplish? Every reason that she could conjure up was just another lie. A lie on top of lies to add to the situation she allowed herself to get into. It would have made Hilda’s life admittedly easier and made her feel justified if Ingrid was some frigid jerk. She could’ve fed further into the immature delusion as to who was deserving of being labeled as the objectively superior. Ingrid already won a long time ago. She already won in every department and she won in being the better person the second Hilda signed up for this stupid thing. The stupidest part of the entire thing was that Ingrid wasn’t even aware of any of it. Even if she managed to best Ingrid in this round, what would she achieve? Did she even gain much from her prior wins? It would be just as empty. The fact that she decided to come alone without even dragging one of her hapless friends to be part of the audience said a lot. The fact that she told no one screamed that she always knew what her intentions were. 

_"STOP!”_ Everyone in the arena, participants and spectators alike, shut up as the wyvern rider rose her hand, “I yield!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda surprised me how long this chapter turned out being and I had to chop it up even further (when am I gonna get to these dummies kissing?? ;-; Slow burn indeed). I had a lot of fun writing this chapter even though I was slowed down because of Spring Break and am probably going to be slowed down with this quarantine stuff going on (mom's a teacher, so when there's no school she wants to be around since she hates being lonely. Thus, cutting into writing time). So bear with me if I'm a little jumbled with these updates. Hopefully, I'll catch on a groove to use the forced staying in to write even more. I hope y'all are taking care on your side of the world. I'm uber happy to see that I'm almost reaching 1,000 hits on this little fic and the amount of support I've gotten so far! I deeply appreciate it and I do little dances every time I get a new comment, subscriber, or bookmark. So thank yas a bunch!
> 
> Hilda is a fun character to write, just because she's a mess of contradictions. She's smart and dumb. Organized and messy. Girly and a stupid scary warrior. Positive yet self-depreciating. She's petty but ends up being too nice (or feels too guilty) to ever fully follow through with that pettiness. It's these characters that I always end up turning into my favorites while writing because there's so many facets and I'm always waiting to see which face is going to over power the other in certain situations. For the longest time, I thought that her pettiness was going to win out on this one, even so much so to have her end up breaking two lances with one hit. But nah, it went another direction and I can't say that it doesn't feel right. Uber excited for the next chapter to see the aftermath for this one.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lance tournament: the aftermath.

Hilda wanted to hide away. Claude was likely on his way back from the Lester Alliance round table meeting, so it’d be another day or so before Hilda had him to whine to. Then again, did she even want to bring it up to him? She would out that she didn’t heed his warning. “I’m sorry for dragging you into my drama, Crissy,” she was anxious to put as much distance from herself and the arena that she decided to use the open ceiling as her exit rather than the double doors.

“Hilda, stop!”

Why couldn’t Ingrid be a fortress knight or bow knight or anything that didn’t fly? Hilda tapped her foot on Crystal’s side to signal her to speed up.

Ingrid followed suit, “Hilda.”

Unfortunately, it’d only make things worse to go speeding to the stables. Hilda pulled on Crystal’s reigns to prevent a sudden collision with Ingrid’s Pegasus, “hey!”

She didn’t allow Hilda to pass, _“what the hell is your problem?”_

Hilda scowled, “you wanna know what my problem is? _You’re_ my problem!”

 _“Me?_ What did _I_ do?”

“Absolutely _nothing._ You’re beautiful inside and out. Super smart. A crazy good fighter. You’re humble and grounded. Mature. So nice to everyone. Always responsible and doing your best with everything. You always have everything so organized and only need to be told things once. You keep things so deceptively simple, yet you’re still so elegant with the way you carry yourself. I thought maybe, just maybe, if I could beat you in some aspect of my life, I wouldn’t feel _this_ big. But why am I in this stupid fight with someone who doesn't even see me like that? It’s dumb, right? Right.”

Ingrid was taken aback, unsure how to respond the barrage of compliments, “I never knew you hated me…”

 _“Ugh,_ I don’t _hate_ you,” it would have made Hilda’s life a billion times easier if she did, “it’s me.”

“Oh,” Ingrid said her hands were still on her pegasus’ reigns, “still, here I thought I was doing a good job not bringing much attention to myself. Apparently not.”

“Heh, you caught Seteth’s attention,” she muttered to herself with the same eagerness to leave.

Ingrid’s head snapped back up to look at her, “what about Seteth?”

The pink flier pretended to recover from a cough, “man, this breeze is giving me quite the chill. And these clouds, I bet it’s going to rain soon.”

“You said something about Seteth. Something about his attention?”

 _Dammit Hilda, stop talking to yourself all the time. I guess they were right when they say that people can always hear the name of those they care about regardless of how low it’s spoken. Fantastic._ “Please don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed,” she cursed internally to herself.

“Noticed what?”

 _You poor poor dense girl,_ _“oh my god,_ Seteth’s into you.”

Ingrid’s pale white face transitioned into a bright red, “he _likes_ me?” She shook her head away from the sheepish expression and back to a mode she was more comfortable in, “I hope this doesn’t mean you’ve been gossiping about this. Seteth has been very helpful to you for you to go talking about him behind his back.”

Hilda wrinkled her nose in offense, “ _No_ , why would I do that? It’s not my fault you can’t read signals, I just decoded them for you. You’re welcome. Now, it’s Crystal’s nap time and I also need to return to the sweet embrace of my bed,” she hoped this was enough to get Ingrid off her case, “besides, don’t you have a fancy lance to win or something?”

Ingrid looked down at the training grounds building, “I suppose they should be finishing up with the last of this round. I guess I’ll um see you around.”

“Sure, don’t let your freebie go to waste,” she said, gave Ingrid a tired wave, and led Crystal past Ingrid to continue her way to the stables.

**…**

Seteth traced the spine of a book before he pulled it away from the shelf. He skimmed the beginning pages to see if this had the information he needed. He turned the pages some more before he shut the book and placed it to the side. His finger followed his careful analysis for another volume to add to his small stack.

“Excuse me, Seteth,” Ingrid’s voice entered his right ear.

“Ingrid, hello. The tournament must have finished up not too long ago, how was it?”

Ingrid pinched her digits slowly, “it went well. I made it to first place.”

“Congratulations, I’m very happy for you,” he said, “you earned it. There’s few that I know that match your diligence and dedication.”

“Thank you,” Ingrid watched the other priests who were also searching or reading in the library. “Seteth, I’m sorry for interrupting you from your work—but do you have a minute?”

“Why yes, of course. There’s no need for apologies,” he picked up the couple of books he had, “I’ll alert the librarian that I’m checking these books out and I’ll be right with you.”

**…**

Ingrid declined meeting at his office. Instead, she chose the open balcony area on the floor above the library. It was a close enough walk that the silence between the two did not linger long enough for either to feel bothered by it. The balcony looked fairly pleasant compared to other parts of the academy that faced more than a fair share of wreckage due to the Empire’s various attacks and bandits taking advantage of the knights’ absence to search for Rhea and Byleth. Nevertheless, it was out of the way enough for few to gather there.

Seteth spoke to the blonde woman beside him, “so what was it that you wanted to speak to me about? Is this about your father’s letters?” It was a topic that resurfaced since she left her house to follow the professor alongside Sylvain and Félix.

“No. Maybe. I’m not sure,” it was a rare occasion when she appeared just as young as she was. It brought him back to when he was trusted enough to learn of the weight she carried being a crest carrier in a failing noble home. Her chest rose and fell as she averted her eyes, “I’m not making much sense so early in our conversation.”

“Speak in whichever way makes you most comfortable,” he said.

She shook her head with a soft smile, “that’s the problem. I’ve never been comfortable with these sorts of things. Battle strategies, weapons, studies, I can do and talk about all of it just fine. I’ve never been good at acting like or being interested in the same things as other women. Since I was a little girl, I’ve always gotten along better with the boys. I think back to when I was a student, Dorthea, Mercedes, and Annette would always try to find an opportunity to chase me down and pound my face with so much make-up or try elaborate hairstyles. Make-up. Dressing up. Dating. I’m so lost over the whole thing, even to this day.”

“And you feel like the lack of interest makes you less of a woman?”

“Sometimes,” she said while she leaned in her stance and crossed her arms, “in a weird way it turned into a form of growing-up in my mind. I’ll get married and that’s the end of me chasing a childhood dream of being a knight. Trading away my lance for a long dress and an appearance with more care. I can’t be fighting great battles and fantasizing about grand adventures such as Kyphon. I have to take on the responsibilities of being a noble and raising a new generation of nobles for my house.”

“You desire to emulate Kyphon, do you?” The name brought back so many welcome memories into his mind, “that’s quite the man to aspire to.”

Ingrid’s gaze brightened, “he really was. So, you’ve read about him? Heh, of course, you have. You know so much about knights and history and so many other subjects,” her face turned a light pinkish color as she cupped her chin in her palm.

“It’s an area of interest. I enjoy revisiting a chapter here or there when I have the opportunity.”

“I know! There are so many stories you could jump right into,” she stepped towards him, her calmer demeanor didn’t completely hide away her elation at the mere thought of a snippet of one of her heroes’ achievements. She toned down her excitement, “but you understand that it doesn’t sound very feminine.”

“Your passions and what you do or don’t do, doesn’t make you any less feminine. Your feminity comes through in other areas. Your poise. Your grace. How you care for others. I could never imagine Kyphon fighting with the same efficiency,” he mused, “and you are living quite the history shifting adventure.”

“…Thank you. It means a lot to hear that,” the apprehension soothed from her features, “I am, aren’t I?” 

“Yes. We all are,” he watched a pegasus knight fly by in the cloudy sky, “for better or for worse.” He moved his attention back to her, “It saddens me how the idea of a family had been tied to an obligation for you, either way, you’re right. A family compels you to sacrifice pieces of yourself, but you don’t have to sacrifice all of you. Taking away the expectations, what do you want at the end of it all, Ingrid?”

Her expression took a pensive look, “what do I want?” She repeated the question, her mouth pronouncing it to absorb the foreign words and their equally foreign meaning. “I shouldn’t want anything in either scenario, right? Even as a knight, my wants should be those of my king, at the very most in their best interest. Like you, Seteth, being the head knight of the church, you place your duty to the goddess and archbishop above all else.”

“This is only one chapter of various chapters of what life has in store for me. Life should not begin and end as solely a knight, lest you end weary of battle and wishing for a blade to cut you down such as it had for Gwendal. He was a spectacular knight and the hero of House Rowe, yet in the end, he knew himself as only a pawn. Where does the duty to whom you serve end and the duty to what you hold true begin?”

Ingrid studied him in disbelief, “mixed feelings about crests and now, knights should desire beyond serving their lord, these are not the kind of beliefs I would think you’d hold.”

“My point is, you should not allow duty as a noble or as a knight to overshadow who you are. There isn’t anything wrong about wanting certain things in your life. Even Kyphon eventually traded his days as a knight to be a father.”

The falcon knight thought further, her fingers lightly squeezed the other, “I see. Hmm.” Another silence fell between the two, a couple of times she opened her mouth to speak again but it would shut again. She closed her eyes frustrated in her inability to speak, “Seteth?”

“Yes?”

“Do…you like me?”

An odd question, “I do. I like you very much, Ingrid.”

Her eyes scanned his face, searching, “I like you a lot too.”

“I’m happy to hear. I always want you to know that I’m here for you.”

There was a softness in her features as she made another step towards him, “I want to be there for you too, Seteth,” she took his hand into her own.

It clicked as he looked at their hands, “ah. I deeply apologize,” he said. “I don’t want you to believe that anything that I have said to you was in my self-interest or disingenuous. I treasure my time with you. Truly,” he held her hand with both of his own, “but I am not the man you’re seeking,” he carefully let go of her hand.

Ingrid’s eyes widened in an embarrassed, angry horror as she turned away from him and held her head, “I should’ve never listened to her,” she said lowly through gritted teeth.

He was confused, “Her?”

“Hilda told me you liked me beyond just friends and for whatever reason, I believed her,” she massaged her eyelids, “I’m so sorry.”

Seteth said with controlled exasperation, “I suppose this was going to come forward with or without her interference.” He was more curious about how she could believe that he was placing that sort of impression.

“Regardless, I should have known better. I wasn’t thinking logically or listening to the entirety of my feelings. No matter how I feel so close to you, you’re still incredibly far away from me.”

"I’m someone who wishes to maintain my privacy, I won’t argue that.”

She disagreed, “it goes further than that."

There was not much else to say nor add. He preferred his island. Flayn preferred his island. The idea of a partner died a millennium ago. And even if his records labeled him as a noble, he had nothing of value to contribute or help the Galatea House’s suffering. This reality was better for Ingrid’s future and himself.

“Seteth, do you believe that the goddess has a person chosen for another?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, “I don’t believe I told you much about this, but I used to be engaged. I was promised to my fiancée not long after I was born. My parents didn’t tell me until my eleventh birthday, and I know how silly it might sound knowing how much marriage has been a weight in my heart these past years—but I was so happy. My best friends were going to be my family and I was going to be part of their family. _Ingrid Brandl Fraldarius._ I used to repeat it so much it drove Dimitri, Sylvain, and Felix insane,” she smiled to herself.

“It was Glenn, Félix’s brother, correct?”

“So, you know what happened?”

"Yes, I’ve spoken about it with Félix before. You both lost someone so dear to you.”

"He was everything I had wanted. A knight to beat all knights. Such a kind and loyal heart. When he would smile, everything would stop. And like you, he didn’t see nor talk to me as a potential gain, I’m just Ingrid. 

…When he was killed protecting Dimitri in Duscur, a part of me crumbled and another morbid part of me fell in love with him even more. I fell into despair for a long time and there’s still an ugly part of me who…hates those people who took that future away from me. It fed into my desire to become a knight, I never wanted to feel so helpless again and if I died, I would be happy because I could see him again in Heaven…” Ingrid caught the shift in her voice and gave herself a breath. “I don’t want to believe in there only being ‘the one,’ because what if my feelings for Glenn are nothing more than the shallow hero-worship of a teenage girl and he was never the right husband for me, or what if he was and the opportunity for a happy family died with him in the massacre? Both outcomes seem too cruel for the goddess to have wanted,” Her voice drifted, “Seteth…you’re pale, are you alright?” She reached to him.

He caught her hand that aimed for his face, it was better than a complete recoil at least, “I’m fine.” Seteth traced each line on her fingers in his mind to ground him to this moment, “I apologize. I don’t know if I can give you an answer to such a question, considering how…unsure I am, myself.”

“You lost someone too.”

So many years ago.

“Seteth, I’m so sorry. I never knew—”

He moved his attention from her palm, “it’s as I said. I’m a private person. There’s nothing to apologize for, in fact, I want to thank you.”

“Thank me?” She said guiltily, “all I’ve done is talk about myself.”

The clouds greyed above, “still, I hope this conversation was as much of a blessing to you as it was to me. You gave me much to consider. I also hope that we can maintain our friendship.”

“Yes. Though, I want you to feel comfortable talking to me too. I’ll lend my ear if you need it. It shouldn’t only be me asking of you.”

“I’ll keep the offer in mind,” he said in appreciation, “is there anything else?”

Ingrid hummed to herself, “well, Hilda caused quite the stir at the tournament today.”

“She _what?”_ Seteth turned his head to the direction of the training grounds building in disbelief.

“Wait…you didn’t know?”

For whatever reason, this irritated him on several levels, “no,” she could have at least mentioned it. "Please don't tell me this was the bad kind of stirring...is she hurt?"

The blonde rubbed the side her neck, “oh no, nothing like that. Though…I guess I shouldn’t comment too much then.”

He sighed to release some of the stress, “at least nothing bad happened.” Hilda remained another puzzle to him. At times he would believe he’d have the pieces there to complete the puzzle, then he’d find that he was looking at a section of the image all wrong and be forced to rearrange again. Trying to pair him with Ingrid and joining the advanced lance tournament without a word. What was her thought process with either of these things? “If that is all, let’s get inside before the rain starts to get worse.”

**…**

What an exhausting day and Hilda couldn’t even manage to get the smallest wink of a nap. She rolled all over her small bed and no matter how much or how loud she would groan, her eyes refused to shut.

She peered in Seteth’s office, half hoping he was there. Half hoping not.

“Hilda, come in,” he didn’t even have to look up from his desk.

“Seteth, hi there,” she walked in trying to save face, “how’s work going?”

“Fairly well, thank you for asking. Ingrid had left a little more than an hour ago,” he stood from his seat.

“R-really? I bet that was a pleasant chat,” she gave a nervous chuckle.

“It was overall,” he said simply before he moved from his desk, “Hilda, please don’t be playing matchmaker. I understand that you may be a romantic, but I would appreciate it if I wasn’t involved with any pairing off schemes.”

Hilda should’ve known that Ingrid would’ve snitched, maybe she was wrong to yield after all. _No this was your fault, Hilda. You should’ve shut your big mouth._ She blinked when his words sunk in, “wait—you _don’t_ like Ingrid?”

He said with a degree of exhaustion, “not to such a capacity. I enjoy her company in a purely amicable way, nothing beyond that. Where did you even get this notion?”

“But what about all your nerdy chats? And she’s so put together and organized and she's totally your type…I was reading everything the wrong way, huh?” She was torn between relief and another layer of awkwardness as she held her forehead, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that.”

“No, but as I told Ingrid, such things were bound to make themselves known with or without your input. Just next time, leave those things to take their course, alright?”

Hilda held her face, “don’t worry, I learned my lesson. If it ever happens again, you can make me reorganize your files for the day.”

“Two _full_ minutes of punishment,” he gazed to his filing cabinet with a raised brow, “it may be classified as sadism to an outsider.”

She cracked a small grin, “hey, I can handle a little torture.”

“Mmhm,” he leaned on his desk, “so what was it that you needed to talk to me about?”

Hilda twirled a lock of her hair as she was brought back to why she came here; it was a good thing that he wasn’t furious over the mix-up with Ingrid. Then again, this on top of it could tip him in that direction, “I um…wanted to confess something to you. I joined the lance tournament that happened today.”

She was expecting him to at the very least mildly freak, “why didn’t you tell me,” the calm tone was worse.

“You told Ingrid how busy you were. What if I was some one minute, one round loss? That would’ve been a complete waste of your time and I would’ve embarrassed you.”

“That wouldn’t have mattered. I should've been there for you, I could have prepared you better.”

“I know, I messed up. I was thinking more about myself and having an easy out rather than how left out you’d feel. That wasn’t fair and it didn’t feel fair,” she said not avoiding the few unguarded features in his composed expression.

Seteth kept his eyes on her face for a moment longer, “so how did you do?”

Hilda teetered in her heels, “uh…I made it to round two…”

“That far? And mounted?”

She gave a guilty chuckle, “yeah, Crystal wasn’t so happy about it.”

“Hmm…had I known I would’ve lent you my wyvern since we used him in our only mounted training so far,” he tapped his chin, "then again, you do need to do more training with your own." He straightened his lean, brushing away any creases on his coat, “come, the rain should have lessened by now. I’m heading to the kitchen to brew some tea and I would like for you to relay everything that happened.”

She expected a lecture so it took a second for her brain to catch up with her, “wait, you're not upset,” she walked after him out of his office door.

He waited for her, "no one is injured, there was nothing egregious committed, and I would rather hear it from you now rather than weeks from now from another one of the soldiers." 

No arguing that that wouldn't have been a good scenario.“Hey, Seteth?”

“Yes?”

“Am I too short for lances?”

He noted her height more, “I’ve trained Flayn in lances and she’s shorter, so you can use them. Although, in a competitive context or as a main weapon, you’re tiny. I’d be more geared to recommend spears and javelins, you already have the throwing arm for it.”

_“Tiny?”_

“Very much so.”

“At least that name didn’t catch on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an incredibly fun chapter to write and one of those chapters I was visibly upset to be interrupted with. Considering that my old writing space is unavailable, I've turned my workplace (which is literally just me, my boss, and her office help) into a new writing space while the social distancing is going on since I can't have 10+ minutes of solitude for focused writing at home. Hope y'all are staying safe on your side of the world over there. 
> 
> Considering that this isn't Azure Moon/Blue Lion route, it was always pretty obvious how Seteth/Ingrid wasn't going to be a thing (...well...outside of the relationship tag). I was going to go further with the Hilda imagined love-triangle by having Ingrid also viewing Seteth platonically, but rewatching their supports you can feel that little crush that Ingrid's developing in her A support (which their supports are some good stuff and I wish there were more fics/art). And I just love how it shows more of Ingrid and Hilda's contrast. Hilda's path to confessing to Seteth is slow and methodical and she overthinks things because she's trying to read possible hints with certainty and the situation has to be perfect. Ingrid just walks up to him, awkward, not knowing what the heck to say, and all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember to smile and say thank you, even if you didn't like the gift.

Hilda received a letter. Hilda received letters daily, the same time at 14:30, to which she didn’t rush picking it up until more than a half an hour later. This letter came in at 6:00 from one of Holst’s falcon knights.

The Goneril house was responsible for protecting the border between Fódlan and Almyra, Fódlan’s Throat, it was affectionately named. One of the checkpoint lookouts alerted her house of an upcoming Almyra invasion and her family _needed_ her there to help. Another do-nothing day lost, worse that it was to an occurrence so annoyingly common. The professor, Claude, Seteth, and a handful of soldiers were open enough to assist her. Holst was going to get the brunt of her complaints when she arrived.

“Hilda! You came! Lord Holst has been afflicted with an illness and couldn’t come…”

“What? He’s not _here_?”

**…**

“ _HOLST!_ You better be dying to make me come all the way over here!” She treaded heavily on the long yellow carpet that extended through her estate’s entrance. “Sandra, where’s my big brother?” The closest cleaning maid was interrupted from dusting a bust that led to the wider area of the extravagant home.

The middle-aged woman pointed with her palm, “yes, m’lady. Lord Holst is recovering in his quarters.”

Hilda thanked the maid and continued her movement forward. She took the left stairs, walked straight, made a sharp right, and his room was behind the set of double doors in the right-wing. She opened the door, prepped to give Holst an earful. “Holst, _oh my god!_ ” She sped her way beside the house doctor that stood over the bedridden man. “You poor baby, you’re whiter than your bedsheets,” she held a hand to her chest.

“Hilda, my dearest sister…I’m so happy you accepted my message,” Holst slowly opened his pink eyes which were a tint darker than her own.

Hilda patted the shoulder of the doctor, “will he be okay, Julian?”

“Oh yes, Certainly. Once he pukes out his entire stomach,” their family doctor’s voice shifted into a low, slow mutter closer to the end.

“What happened?” Some potentially life-threatening virus? Poisoned by a malicious criminal?

“Don’t worry yourself too much. Our Lord here was simply feeling a little experimental with his diet,” the aged man placed his pencil in his breast pocket, “and this is why we don’t snack on mushrooms before we’re sure what type they are. Give him a full day’s rest and he should be running full force by the same time tomorrow. If you’ll please excuse me, I will be leaving my nurse to take over. It’s always a joy to see you back home,” he made a step away from the bed.

All of Hilda’s sympathy left with the doctor, “a dirty mushroom? _Really_ , Holst? We have a full pantry and you know Emmerich can cook you something quick.”

“I was out on a hunt and hungry,” Holst moaned. “I was positive it was one of those in a book of edible plants.”

“Holst. I’ve gotta big mission in several days. Everyone else is all crazy busy preparing for that and you go out and stuff your face with mushrooms? _Ugghh!_ Do you know how much we have to rush to get here and back? And there were those monster birds along with those crazy Almyrans, we could’ve lost a whole group of our personal fleet because of this stunt. Our troops trust us to be competent in our position.”

The large man sniffed, “you’re right. You’re so much more worthy of the Goneril birthright—Jenna,” he called to the nurse.

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Go tell papa that I want to transfer the Goneril estate and wealth to my precious sister’s name—”

Hilda rose her hands, “oh goddess, no! Jenna, don’t tell papa anything.”

“But our noble home deserves more than a pitiful man such as myself. So much of an animal that I eat straight from the dirt—no even animals can properly feed themselves.”

She stomped her heel, “how is dumping all that work to me a reward? I don’t want all of the money or title to myself.”

“Such the kindest of kindest hearts, to come to the aid of others without the need for a reward. Truly a noble of nobles, it brings a tear to my eye to have such a wonderful baby sister,” Holst was already lost in his praise. “Why don’t you stay at home? You’re worrying papa, mama, and I sick thinking about how you have to stay in one of those tiny dorm rooms. Leave the fighting to your big brother, your gentle hands shouldn’t be overexerting themselves.”

“Leave the fighting to the one who puts who-knows-what in his mouth?” She rolled her eyes, “I already told you, I’ve gotta help Claude and the professor. It’s not so bad being back at Garreg Mach, I've been getting a lot done.”

“Are you still working on your book with that writer?”

“Uh-huh, we finished another story yesterday,” she started happy, “which was for _today_ until you called us over here,” she transitioned to a steamed response.

Holst looked past her to the door, “so the writer came with you?”

“You wrote that this was urgent. He insisted to help.”

“Should I be worried? Perhaps you should take Godfrey with you—Jenna, retrieve Godfrey please.”

Hilda rose her hands again to the nurse, who again only made it beyond shifting her weight, “no. No. Jenna, don’t retrieve anyone.” She turned back to her brother, “Holst, there isn’t anything to worry about. Nothing’s happening, we don’t even talk about that kinda stuff. Also, you already know that I only hug Claude as far as guys go,” she hugged Seteth once in a context that she’d rather not bring up, “honest.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“So, _nothing_ nothing? No declarations? Hand holding? More than friendly anything?”

She crossed her arms and rested most herself on one side, “I’ve prayed with him, is that so scandalous?”

Holst winced slightly with a small gesture of his hand, “were you clasping your own hands or—”

“ _AUGGH!!_ You’re unbelievable!”

“Hilda-bear, you know I trust you. But you’re still a young, beautiful, crest bearing, unmarried noble of Goneril. I don’t trust _them_. Your family has reason to worry about you running around alone with this unusual new faction of the Leister army. If it weren’t for the fact that Claude and the Knights of Seiros are personally heading this army, we wouldn’t have allowed this,” he said.

She knew. “Okay, well the border was protected. You’ll feel better tomorrow. I’m perfectly safe. Can I leave now since we have to rush back?”

“Hold on, I insist that I give this to you for doing this for me and I won’t take ‘no’ as an answer,” he leaned his head from his pillow again, “Jenna, please tell Godfrey to bring the chest from the weapons vault.”

**…**

“Are you sure you don’t want this?” The professor held the open chest in the entrance hall of the academy with Cyril still by his side.

Hilda stared at the misshapen giant ax, yellowed and worn by the years. To say it yellowed was an odd quality for a weapon to have. Like other relics, there was no metal used on the blade, yet the points that stuck out were so sharp that a careful touch left a hole on her gloved finger. An ax built more to puncture than simply slice. Once more she placed her hand on the flat side of the blade and the crest stone gave a surge of life to the weapon. Beating. Wailing. She shrunk back her hand, “yeah, I’m sure. I’m too much of a novice and I’d rather just stick with the axes I already have. You’re the only one I can trust to take care of it, please, take it.”

Byleth clicked the latch shut, “alright. I will keep it safe for you.”

“Thank you so much, professor,” it wasn’t like she wanted Holst to give it to her, “it doesn’t match with my style at all and the way it pulses like that, eech. It’s like if it’s alive,” she shook her palms up. The wyvern rider realized that she made her disgust known, “um, but I can always use it if you want.”

“Don’t feel the need to force yourself. Thank you, let me know if you change your mind,” the professor said.

 _Whew._ “I appreciate all of your help. Sorry again for the trouble.” She began her walk to meet Claude at the dining hall. Instead of standing by the door, he lounged by a pillar an earshot away, “bein’ nosey, Claude?”

“Just curious,” he said with no shame, “I’m pretty sure pops is going to be pissed at you and Holst for the family relic ending up with teach.”

She went with him into the dining hall, “most likely. It’s my brother’s fault though, he was dumb enough to get himself sick and he was dumb enough to give me something so valuable that I didn’t even want. Does he expect me to keep it under my bed? It’ll be watched over better with the professor.”

They passed other seated soldiers already eating their dinner, “true, especially when you consider how many times you forget to lock your bedroom door. What are you feeling? I’m feeling a little adventurous for the chef’s surprise.”

Hilda read over the menu, “we can do that,” she wasn’t picky today. “Say, Claude, what do you feel when you use your relic?”

Claude made their order to the server. “Me?” He gave her a glance over before he recounted his experience, “I try not to use it much since mystical arrows are hard to come by. When I do use it, it’s as if every part of my body wakes up. I breathe better, think clearer, my shots travel further, and have more power. That’s all it’s for, right? A one-up in power because I was born with the right crest?”

“You don’t hear anything weird? Cuz, I’m pretty sure I heard some kind of…screaming,” she mimicked a low guttural sound around the same vein.

He set down his plate of grilled chicken with a side of potatoes and peas in front of a pair of empty seats, “I thought that was just the goddess’s mercy and grace pouring over me.”

“Claude, I’m being serious.”

He greeted Shamir who also ate her dinner at their side of the long table. “Watch it, Hil, don’t want to risk blaspheming out in the open,” he cut into his chicken, “I hear ya. Then again, it’s just another tirade to add to the list when we’re in your room.”

Hilda looked at a bite-sized piece of chicken, “it’s not blasphemous to be curious.”

Claude bent closer to her, he knew Shamir didn’t care, but he didn’t know if someone who did would listen in to their conversation, “Hilda, I’ve looked through every book in this library. Let me make you ponder this. How is it that the grand beacon of the Church of Serios doesn’t have not one book on the origin on any of the heroes' relics outside of the vague line, ‘the 10 elites and a select other few were gifted the heroes' relics by the goddess?’ Nothing on where they came from. How they were forged. How or why crest stones are needed or where one gets a crest stone. Or even the catastrophic situation that justified the need for magic-blood-powered weapons. Why is that?”

“Maybe, the church doesn’t want more made,” she said.

He tapped his chin, his green eyes darted for a clue in his mental library, “why though if they’re supposed to be blessings? You’d think there’d be an entire subgenre on the topic of holy weapons. At least one scholar must’ve tried to figure out the type of metal they used…”

Hilda drank some of her water for a moment in her mind, “papa would be great with questions like this. Whatever it is, it’s _not_ metal. The texture and weight aren’t right. And then metal doesn’t yellow, it rusts.” She lived her entire life around axes, swords, and all the like, she should know the properties of the probable materials used.

Claude’s eyes brightened with a new resolve, “Hilda, hurry up and finish your plate,” he stabbed various pieces of his food and ate.

Hilda gave attention to her barely touched meal, “huh? You wanna do this _now_? I’ve gotta test to finish studying for tomorrow.”

“C’mon Shorty, we have a couple nights before we set off for the great bridge and I’d like to get a head start for next month’s studies,” he only had a third of his food left and took a big gulp of water.

She griped, “if I get a tummy ache and fail my test because of you, I swear,” she picked up the pace.

* * *

There were a few taking exams today. Cyril and Hilda for wyvern rider and lord respectively, as well as Shamir for falcon knight. One exam participant per table during the written portion, which would be finished within an hour.

The first part consisted of short answers of what you knew about your weapons in question. If it was only this portion, she would have gotten her certificate without even thinking about it. It took no longer than fifteen minutes.

The second part was an essay, a prompt about a hypothetical situation with a set number of units and classes. What kind of strategy should be taken at a macrolevel and how her class would be most useful at a microlevel? You and the King need to survive since you would be sending a small part of the army. Hilda used the advantage of the quick completion of the first part for extra time. She took her scratch piece of paper and sketched a top-down view of the scenario, labeled her side’s circles, and the other side’s squares with their class underneath. Marked her sheet with notes and arrows as she worked out her mental image of the path with little to no casualties. She tapped her pencil on her desk as she mouthed her probable outcomes. When she realized that one would be killed because of an unaccounted opening, she bit her tongue as she erased. Did quick rearranging of certain pieces or having another piece come in to assist. Once satisfied, she transferred her drawings into writing. Went step-by-step from arranging the army, to who would be used as adjuncts, who they would be paired with, and why. From where the army would enter the fortress and if they would split up into smaller factions or attempt to overtake the opponents as a large mass. She used herself as she was used in prior missions with the professor, in the front, she picked off troublemakers that were harder to reach without wings. She filled a page side and a half with her clumsy cursive. 

After the written portion, outside there was a showcasing portion for each part that the certification required proficiency for. The professor, as well as two other appropriate judges, would rate how well they were able to pull off each required action.

She waved at her small audience; she was the only one who cared enough to invite anyone. Alois and Catherine came anyways, much to Shamir’s annoyance.

“Shamir! Hey Shamir, over here! Good thing we double-checked the dates; you got your days all mixed up,” Catherine called out.

“You can do it, Shamir and Cyril!”

“Knock those targets dead, Hil!”

Comparatively, Claude was the only one who spoke up. Marianne stood between Claude and Seteth. Both quiet observers.

The demonstrations weren’t as exciting as a tournament. No prize. No spectators shouting on the sidelines. No instantaneous decisions. Yet, there was a ping of elation with each success and flubs weren’t as heavy. She was prepared and she knew she had this.

**…**

Seteth stood behind, while the others waited by the classroom door for the results. He was certain of the outcome, as he was sure the rest were too. A nudging part of his brain reminded him of how he needed to finalize the list for the bishop which accounted for each position to be maintained. Also, another list for Catherine and the subsection of the army to stay behind to not leave the monastery unprotected.

The same part also made him aware of how little he was needed or fit in there. Seteth wasn’t one for small talk, Marianne wasn’t one for conversation, and Claude was only interested if the conversation aided in his pursuits. Perhaps he should leave now, he was there during the demonstration portion of the exam. He showed his support. She didn’t need him beyond that. Yet, another side overpowered the rest and he remained.

Hilda, thankfully, came from the classroom within a short enough period to not drag the internal argument. She attempted to subdue her bouncy exterior, instead, she produced the amusing appearance of tiptoeing on hot sand.

“Well?” Claude said for the group.

She released her elation in full, “I passed!”

“Atta girl!” Claude gave her a good shake in a manner which made Seteth note that he and Hilda weren’t as close as commonly expected. Not as if it was of his concern anyway.

“How wonderful,” Marianne’s soft voice finally spoke.

It was the odd day when the peck, peck, pecking of his awareness as an outsider was in the front of his mind. It was a fact that was always present. Her surrounded by close friends, the animated sway of her hair as she chatted about possible plans. Before the pecks could become oppressive, she freed herself from the others and he was aware that he was staring.

“What are you doing all the way over here,” as if there was some significant reason outside of the norm, “can you believe it? On my first try too, even the professor was impressed.”

Words spun through his mind. He must pick the right sequence; they weren’t in a space where his misspoken words could be easily tossed aside, especially with how her friends were not far behind. He couldn’t take too long either because that would also label him as odd, “well done,” he settled on. “Your footing was very good.” No, that was insufficient.

Hilda’s high wasn’t dampened, “I hope so. We spent how many hours getting it down…mostly? Come on, celebrate with us,” she made herself slightly taller with the help of her toes.

 _Celebrate with…?_ His thoughts trailed off as he glanced uncomfortably away from her, “ah, you see—”

“Hilda, can’t you understand? We’re leaving for the bridge tomorrow. Seteth can’t be like you and just throw everything he needs for the trip in a suitcase at two in the morning,” Claude pulled Hilda back with an arm around her.

She used her arms, rebalanced herself, and shook him off, “rude.”

Which Seteth quite agreed. Very rude. Nevertheless, “as I was saying, I won’t be able to at present. I hope you enjoy your time together and congratulations,” his words came across as stilted and forced to him.

“Hey, Seteth!” Alois’s booming voice called for his attention, “you’ll be happy to know, Shamir here just _earned her wings_ HA!”

Catherine was also brazened in her partner’s new class and had the proper level of toleration for Alois’s…genre of humor. “Don’t worry kid, you’ll get yours next time,” she gave a hearty pat to the disappointed Cyril. 

Shamir bore the face of a wet cat that loved her owners enough not to claw their faces. 

“Excellent, we need another falcon knight for this mission. There will be next time, Cyril. And I will be expecting you in my office in two hours, Catherine. Thank you,” he said whatever would serve his purpose of properly excusing himself.

…

Seteth conversed with the bishop to delegate the church duties and with Catherine to delegate the knight duties while he was away. He finished mailing his weekly updates to the other branches and thanked them again for the small outsource of resources and funds. He wouldn’t be able to request more soldiers or provisions until they managed to successfully conquer the bridge of Myrddin for assured safe travel through the Alliance roads. Heaven knows they will need it, tomorrow their army will shift to the offensive and make their intentions known to the Empire.

He wasn’t the main tactician, but he charted his finger on the map of Fódlan. If they chose their strikes strategically, the Alliance might dissolve the Empire before the year’s end. An optimistic image to be certain, it would still take a while to reach Rhea. He rested his back on the chair with a sigh, he didn’t want to waste time. One can’t rush with these things either, lest you toss away any chance there was to free anyone.

 _How soon until this map becomes obsolete?_ Mother mocked him with her games and time found him here fighting for the Alliance. She had a strange humor to her. What was to become of this land after this war? What was to become of Garreg Mach after Byleth was named the archbishop? Whatever Rhea did, she failed in her ambitions. Mother did not awaken in him the way that Rhea intended. With how ignorant Byleth was between Jeralt and Rhea, the heir couldn’t possibly understand the reasons as to how things are done and why.

_“Seteth, please take care of this for me,” Byleth brought a chest with him, intercepting Seteth’s path to dine with Flayn for the night._

_There was an idea of what the contents were before he checked inside, “Freikugel?” The Goneril house must have determined Hilda was prepared for such a responsibility, “and she’s allowing you to possess this?”_

_“Yes. Place this with the others under a protection spell. Thank you,” Byleth said._

_He stepped forward, “professor, wait,” he lowered his voice further after being certain that they were still alone, “I’m fortunate to have your trust…but please be careful. If noble houses believe that the church is attempting to confiscate their heirlooms…”_

_“It isn’t confiscating if the heirs have given me their permission and they are free to wield them if they request it. Besides our army doesn’t have the materials or funds to become dependent on them.”_

_The reasoning was sound for now, “if it’s with their consent, alright. We will house the relics until their users are self-assured enough to handle them,” it was beneficial to focus what little they could for the upkeep to the few who did choose to use their relic._

The problem was that nobles don’t often register the difference between what was efficient and what was overexertion of exploitable power. The succession of thoughts and slow blinks made the written landmarks on the map hazy in his vision.

“Delivery,” his reawakened attention went to the door as he sat back up. He was positive he collected all his deliveries for today and he wasn’t expecting one from Hilda.

“I didn’t request anything,” he said.

Hilda strut inside, “I know, I’m making you take a break,” she declared.

_"Making me?”_

“Yes, and now I know what tea you like,” she set down the tray on the small flat coffee table some paces from his desk and sat down on one of the plush green chairs expectedly. The steam wisped as a pale ivory teacup was filled, “and it’s actually hotter this time.”

He habitually checked the clock, “if I have no choice in the matter,” fortunately the math was in his favor. He stretched his legs to move from one seat to another.

“Nope, you don’t,” she said while she opened a round tin case. “My brother sent another round of cookies as an extra thanks and sorry for putting up with him,” she set down the lid and placed the paper padding to the side.

“It’s good to know that he’s feeling well regardless. I’m surprised that there are still Almyrans causing problems at the border during this period,” Seteth expected that the Almyran king would want to avoid causing unneeded stress for his son.

“Oh, Claude says that he can’t do much about that. As long as there’s an Almyran group looking for a thrill, my big brother will have to stay put where he is,” she stirred the honey in her cup. She gently rose her cup, “cheers! To no more tests!”

“I don’t believe this is the drink for such,” he held his own.

Hilda tapped her cheek, “well I did debate on bringing wine, but I don’t think you’d like alcohol while you still have to work.”

“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to take that as you assume, I’m a lightweight or a drunk. But true, tonight isn’t the night for that.”

Her smile shifted into another plane of playfulness, “you drink? I thought a night at the pub would be a big ‘no’ for holy officials.”

“Taverns are too rambunctious for me, but the occasional glass of wine is a nice luxury,” he didn’t feel to comment on where other officials should choose to spend their time off if it wasn’t destructive to themselves or others, “such things aren’t necessary, but aren’t harmful in moderation either.”

She hummed, “welp, we have to work with what we have tonight.” She went on, “And to the best flying class, wyvern lords.”

“To wyvern lords. Cheers,” their teacups clinked and they each took a sip. “You _do_ have things prepared for tomorrow, do you?”

Hilda almost bit into a daisy-shaped pastry, “mostly.”

“Are we speaking 51 or 95 percent?”

She gawked at him, “surprise me one minute, remind me that it’s _you_ the next. More than fifty, less than ninety,” funnily enough, he could say the same to her, “I only have a bit more to pack up.”

“I don’t mean to be obnoxious; I just want you well-rested,” he took another sip of his four-spice tea, internally glad that she took it as lighthearted.

“I know,” she cradled her cup close to her, “you need a full night’s sleep too, y’know? How much more do you have left?” She craned her neck to remind him of the map still on his desk.

“I’m almost finished,” he said as he took a cookie from the tin, “fortunately, this amount of workload is temporary. Besides, it’s good to finally feel productive again.” No matter how little five years meant to him as far as time went, going around in circles in the dark and wounded for an extended length would tire any soul.

A significant portion of the Knights of Serios was lost when Edelgard revealed her intentions to make an enemy of the church and the other nations of Fódlan. The remainder was further stretched thin as they sought out Rhea and Byleth. The rest of the land hadn’t fared any better within that time, bearing in mind the amount of infighting and plants the Empire prepared ahead of time. It would be foolish to believe that it was solely the Emperor who set these events into motion, she was only another puppet.

“Seteth, could I ask you something?”

“Always.”

He watched as she moved herself to get a better view of the hallway outside without getting out of her seat. It was too late for most people to be working in their office outside of himself. At most, Hanneman may have fiddled away with his passion research. It would be admirable if said passion didn’t lead to a fair amount of harassment from the scholar over his crest. Her bright eyes looked back at him once satisfied, “you’ve never used a heroes’ relic, have you?”

Seteth blinked. If he wasn’t responsible for placing her house’s relic in the underground catacombs yesterday, such a question would have been out of place, “no, I am unable to.”

She plopped her back on the velvet seat, “hmm, you might not get what I’m talking about then. Blessings are supposed to be a good thing, right?”

“Right.”

She adjusted herself on the seat, “then why do I feel like there’s something off about the relics?”

“Weapons cannot be blessings nor curses.”

“But they’re supposed to be from the goddess, aren’t they?”

“They were gifts, not blessings in of themselves. What one does with a gift has the potential to be a blessing or a curse.” Seteth scooted himself closer in his seat and he set his cup on the saucer to grant more access to his hands as he saw that he wasn’t coming through, “allow me to better explain.

A wealthy father leaves his riches divided between his three sons. The foolish son squanders his riches with women, gambling, and empty extravagance. Amassing a debt that places a bounty to his name and he is forced to wander homeless in rags. The wise son, on the other hand, respects and invests his inheritance. His family is never hungry, he pays those who serve him well, and he uses his expanded funds to assist others and himself when a storm inevitably comes to his land. Did the father damn one son and bless the other?”

“I’d think that the father failed somewhere along the way in teaching his son what he should or shouldn’t do with such a big responsibility,” she said.

This one. He smiled as he shook his head to himself, “I’m so fortunate I never was your teacher during your time in the academy. You would have frustrated me immensely.”

“And I didn’t?”

“Obtaining consistent reports over skipping classes and trainings were a bit frustrating, I will admit. But not to such a capacity,” there were worse students than she who chose to maintain a comfortable spot as a C-student.

“But what about the third son? What did he do with his portion?”

He poured himself more tea and stirred in some honey, “most don’t think about the third son. Some would tell me that only the two would be necessary for such a story. The third son took his birthright and hid it away behind a safe. He feared either risk, the possible loss too much and the possible victory never enough. A similar storm blows by his land and he makes do without opening the safe because he doesn’t wish to dry up the funds inside. He continues as if he never received an inheritance at all.”

Hilda had a particular expression when she was piecing her thoughts. She stared intensely at her almost empty teacup. Her pink brows carried only a slight crease. After a moment still, she adjusted a loose strand of hair as she pouted. “Would I be a fool if I sided with the third one? Why use something if I can work without it?”

“It can be argued either way. He was wise to acknowledge the value of his gift and his desire to protect it. He was foolish because fear controlled his decision.

Perhaps, you’re right. Perhaps somewhere the father failed his sons because surely if he failed one, he must have also failed the others. Or perhaps he didn’t. Ultimately, was up to the sons to decide what became of them and their birthright. Similarly, for yourself and your relic. But don’t push yourself to use a weapon if you aren’t confident using it,” he knew she was well beyond capable. The relics were built in a way and powerful enough on their own that even a beginner could do a fair amount of damage.

Hilda also refilled her cup, “the professor said the same. The last bit, I mean. The professor’s not much of a storyteller,” she held the back of her palm to the side of her rosy cheek as if this was a stunning revelation for just them.

“That’s reassuring to know, I wouldn’t want you replacing me for another writer anytime soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first arc is tying itself up fairly well and I'm pretty unsure how to feel about it. It's exciting and I'm also silently flipping out because of what's to come. I'm also unsure how to feel about it because I wasn't really expecting this to be so long and then I say to myself "what WERE you expecting?" (I was expecting to be done with this before May was out ;-; ) Again, so glad I was subconsciously realistic and labeled this as a slow burn and I'm coming into the acceptance that this is going to be way more than 50,000 words (I'm at 42700+ yay \\(;w;)/ ). Thank you again for joining me along for the crazy ride. 
> 
> In however many times I've played Three Houses (5 and 2 current routes; VW and SS w/ Ashen Wolves), Hilda has struck me as one of the smartest characters in the game. True, it takes some time to see beyond the "teeheehee, I'm so lazy," and her manipulative/petty side has blown up on her face more than a couple of times. And the way in which she's smart also makes it more interesting because she's not looking to be seen as smart, 9/10 she just makes hyper perceptive comments. She's the first not to trust Edelgard (hence the reason she's not recruitable to BE unless you side against her in SS), she knew that Monica was a fake, and she was the only one to really comment on the Hero's Relics sinister nature as well as a whole bunch of other subtle examples throughout the game. She's got that holy trinity, that one. Beauty, brains, and brawn. If it weren't for the fact that she's gotta whole lotta other crap wearing her down, I'd think she was a boring character. 
> 
> I used the Heroes' Relics more in my first play through, when I realized how hard it was to consistently fix them, I used them a little less. When I realized what they were, I became part of the camp "return them to the church--Rhea will be stepping down anyways." The only ones I really use the relics for are Byleth, Felix, Claude, and now Yuri. All the rest of them, I can't be bothered to fix/use as a mainstay. But in the story itself Ingrid also has her relic as well as Catherine and any of them that weren't off the bat like "hey professor, keep this for me will ya?" Cuz Byleth was just like "'kay. *Tosses to Seteth to take care of, cuz he's not busy nor has enough to stress about*" 
> 
> This was a tough chapter to write, not as a whole but some parts left me really stumped. There were a couple of days where I just stared at the scene like "EFF, I'm almost done!" Which was the last two scenes. 2nd to last I deleted and changed the POV and the last was really easy until it wasn't, and then it was easy again. I could have sworn I heard Seteth's story somewhere when I was itty bitty, but when I tried to search for the original, couldn't find it anywhere. Nevertheless, I'm happy how the chapter turned out. Oi, the next chapter is the Bridge. *-*


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wyverns are reptilian bats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to have a terrible idea (and you're 21+) take a drink every time you see "wyvern," "Gloucester," and "bridge." You'll likely be drunk before you reach the end of the chapter.

It was before daybreak and Seteth arrived early to the stables; his hair slightly damp from the morning shower. It would be an hour or so before other soldiers began gathering and preparing their mounts for the travel.

The animals inside noticed his presence and greeted him with their unique bustle. His boots made a soft crunch with each step on the scattered hay and loose dirt. The dim artificial light and the moon provided enough, and he made his way to where his wyvern waited. Aris touched his open palm, telling him that he too was wide awake, “does your mind shorten your nights as well? Or did you know that today we have to travel for battle?” Large yellow eyes simply blinked in response.

Wyverns held a beauty all their own, from the individual shapes of their scales to the structure of their form. When he ran his hand on Aris’ jaw, it was an act that could not be mimicked in confidence with the wyvern housed beside him. These scaled beasts sensed a slight wariness and retaliated with their own magnified. Not to consider the more aggressive types. They were most akin to cats, some naturally calmer and easier to approach, others bore their fangs and their thin tongue twisted in disgust.

Throughout the years, Seteth dealt with the varying degrees of wyvern. Aris, himself, bitten him more than once during their first weeks of assignment, it did him well that both instances where he drew blood, he was alone. After trust was achieved, wyvern and rider depended on each other as a unit.

The deep dark indigo-blue of the night gave way to a lighter pink-lavender; the sun was not so far away. He heard an unalarming squawk a couple of stalls down, “good morning to you as well,” he stepped closer to Crystal’s direction to avoid her overtly irritating her neighbor. The other sleepy female wyvern made a hiss at Crystal’s nipping. “I hope you won’t give us too much trouble when setting up your new armor,” he muttered while he stroked the side of the wyvern’s neck to guide her attention to him. Lackadaisical while at the academy, hostile when out in battle. Learned behavior from her rider? A coincidence of two kindred souls coming together? Captivating but elusive. The wyvern had the benefit of the doubt by being unable to speak.

His scowl deepened. Unwanted thoughts. Most days they were pushed down in the far corners of his mind by more pressing matters. _Today_ was a pressing matter. But with the month’s tasks needed for this point complete and no distraction, those ideas floated above the depths he preferred them to be. Since Flayn spoke to him about her troubles, it only added to the swell of an ignored subject that demanded analyzation. Perhaps Hilda also came to that conclusion, perhaps that’s why she watched him strangely. It explained the debacle with Ingrid. Pass him along to another to pester with such things. She was likely overwhelmed with other more appropriate, and better suitors to ever add himself into the mix. Which he agreed, he shouldn’t be in any such lists. Hers, Ingrid’s, or otherwise. He considered himself fortunate though, for thus far she has met him with a patient spirit.

It was all the bumbling of a man who hadn’t gone out of his way to make friends for about two hundred years. During those days he could name the few without needing his second hand, to last until the weight of the questions signaled his time to disappear.

“Hi there,” he looked over to see Hilda give a freshly awakened wave from the barrels of feed and planks of wood that sat near the hedge gated entrance.

Another hint of ridicule? Did his thoughts summon her there. No, that’s idiotic. He was petting her wyvern, that’s why she was there. “You’re early, I’m impressed,” he said.

She gave a bashful grin, in response she adjusted her maroon-red glove, “it’s going to take me forever to make up or down of Crystal’s new armor. This way I’m early enough to be late being ready to go. So, don’t be praising me too much yet.”

 _Early enough to be late?_ Not a practice he was personally familiar with, but the idea rang clear. He traced the dip near the wyvern’s horns with his palm, “nevertheless, you had the foresight to be honest with your ability. You arrived at a perfect time, I’m going to put on Aris’ armor in a moment so you will have the opportunity to walk it through more than once today.” Seteth moved from Crystal’s stall to return to his wyvern, “besides, it’s very helpful when there’s a second pair of hands.”

**…**

The act of placing the armor for the wyvern in and of itself wasn’t overly time-consuming from what she saw with Aris. The amount of time depended on the other elements. If it was being done independently or with another or how cooperative the wyvern felt like being that day. Crystal’s reins were tied to a post that kept her from wandering. The most frustrating—and potentially dangerous—bit behind them now that her headpiece was secured. The wyvern rubbed her head on the post, disapproving of the foreign upgrade.

The annoyed swishing of her tail would have been a problem if Hilda did this alone. She carried the first pink shield for Crystal’s left leg while Seteth held her still—well, more still—on that side, “stop being a baby—thank you so much, she would’ve been impossible.”

“It will get easier once she becomes accustomed to it,” he replied, “she has done well thus far already.”

Good news, she’d begin to debate using her wyvern lord title if she had to fight to get her wyvern’s armor on every time. She wriggled the strapped shield to test the tightness, “I was thinking about last night, I mean, about the story,” she started, “I liked it a lot and I get it. We should all strive to be like the second son, do good with what we get, ‘n’ all.”

“But there’s something else?”

She went over and picked up the second shield for Crystal’s right leg, “yeah, money didn’t turn people into literal monsters, have heartbeats, or scream at you.” She should’ve taken the monetary inheritance after all. Hilda pulled on the leather strap.

He didn’t answer immediately. “Is she secure?”

Hilda gave the steel armor piece a shake and another adjustment, “she’s good.”

Seteth released his hold on her leg, “like I said last night, I am unable to use any relic. But, I have never personally read anywhere that a crest bearer must use their relic if their bloodline possesses one…” He looked at her intensely with a low hum.

“What?”

He broke his gaze and reached for the form-fitted breastplate for Crystal, “actually let’s finish the task at hand here. We should have enough time to make a stop at the weapons vault by the knights’ hall.” He gave a firm press to the reptile’s softer chest area and gently directed her to sit up. Even though he wasn’t Crystal’s handler, the wyvern was obedient with little complaint.

Seteth had a way of doing things, he took everything in while expressing about as little. One couldn’t be sure if he was more concerned with examining whatever he looked at, detached, both? A trait that initially made Hilda avoid him while he strode around the academy halls. She couldn’t toy with him like most men. She couldn’t comprehend him like most men. In this quiet moment, he gave the wyverns a softer variation that same expression that brought clarity to that mystery. 

He spoke up to remind her to get out of her daydreaming, “I’ll hold her armor while you strap it on.”

She hopped up on her feet. Guided the loose straps closest to her free from behind the armor and draped a long strap over Crystal’s shoulder. Scurried around the shortest path to the dangling clasps. She saw others enlisted for this mission as they came to the stables to get ready. 

**…**

“Tell me, what do you know of Saint Macuil?” Seteth asked as they walked from the stables.

“Macuil?” She said while she caught a glimpse of Claude heading for the stables with the professor and sped up after she gave a hi-bye wave. “He’s a Saint, one, and he was a warlock,” she pictured the statue in stone robes at the back end of the cathedral. She normally forgot whatever she studied after a test was good and done, so the brief but significant history about the Saints was mostly not there. 

The direction to the knight’s hall was a straight shot from the stables. “Macuil was not simply a warlock, he was a pioneer to both faith and reason magic and arguably the best spell caster ever recorded,” he shook his head with a grin, “He was also the head tactician to Serios’ army, teacher to Saint Cethleen, and a man of many talents.”

“Sooo I’m guessing that Saint Macuil is your favorite Saint?”

“Favorite? No, each of the Saints were noteworthy in their particular space,” he said, “but, if I were to choose whom I favor most it would be Saint Cethleen.”

A funny answer since he wasn’t a magic user, much less a healer. To be fair, it wasn’t like she thought about having a favorite Saint or elite or whatever. “How come?”

Any hint of a cold feature melted away by hinting an answer, “she had an unshakable amount of love towards others, even those that stood against Serios’ army she couldn’t have the space to hate them. She would forgive a repentant heart and mourn the lost soul. Being the youngest of the Saints, she didn’t allow her age to limit her efforts. One can make the case she strove harder than the rest.”

It would be easy to think of this excitement over Saints as incredibly dorky. Something probably only the highest and most devout believers would express. But she felt such a genuineness pour from him. _He’s super cute._ “Hmm, maybe I should read some of her stories when I have some free time later.”

Seteth adjusted his demeanor as he gave the okay for the weapons vault to be opened, “well, I’m currently in the rough stage of the rough draft for my own work about Saint Cethleen, but I have a couple of recommendations by other authors.” The weapons vault was a singular large stony room tacked behind the knight’s hall, reserved for the nice to _very_ nice weapons. Each category of weapon was organized accordingly on the walls. She wondered if this meant she was allowed to get her pick, because why join a tournament when she could take the upgraded silver ax now? “But we were speaking of Macuil,” he proceeded forward, “among the various talents, he was also a master blacksmith.”

Magic, teaching, strategy, _and_ smithing? “Macuil must’ve worked like crazy,” half of her felt sorry for the guy. She never heard of nor met anyone possessing Macuil’s crest since the Saint, and now she had a clue as to why.

“He was an extraordinary man,” Seteth’s words were soft and slow, as he scanned the back part of the single lit room and carried down a large double bit ax. The leather sheath that protected the head was visibly old but impressively sturdy, the leather showed hints of its original light color. Unlike the color, the carving on the leather lost part of its sharpness but otherwise, the slender dragon kept its serene expression as it twisted around the brown canvas.

Hilda squinted at the inscription. If the rest of the design wasn’t so exact in its presentation, she could have mistaken the free-handed writing on the right blade as another element of the elaborate design. She feared touching it as if it would be easily wiped away, “what language is this?”

“One that died a long time ago,” he said. “It’s theorized to be the native tongue of the Saints, but very little of it remains today. Just enough to not be completely erased by history.”

Made sense, during the Saints’ time there wasn’t a Fódlan or at least not like it was today. Who knew how many languages were lost to create a more harmonized nation? “Macuil also was a leather artisan?”

“Oh no, actually the sheath was Indech’s handiwork. He was a fantastic artist—not to discount Macuil’s craftsmanship,” Seteth spoke a tad quicker, maybe aware that he was showing too much of his favorite topic. “But getting to the subject at hand,” He did the necessary two-step to slip the sheath off the head.

Not to discount Macuil’s work indeed. There was an unmistakable elegance to the ax, much unlike any relic. Relics presented their age on each crack, wear, and yellowed bodies. One could have thought this ax was forged and polished yesterday. Macuil must have been a man of culture and aesthetics because the metal was brighter than any silver—made brighter by the glowing blue energy that encased it—had a subtle yet immaculate design hand engraved onto it. “It’s gorgeous,” she managed to get out.

“It is. This is the ax of Ukonvasara,” he said with a light tone of admiration that wasn’t there when he spoke of the relics, “I believe you would find a great use for it,” he held it to her.

“Huh?? What? But it has the crest of Gloucester engraved on the handle,” she fidgeted with her gloved hands.

“Are Lorenz or Lysithea skilled with the ax?”

“But it’s meant for…”

“It’s meant for whoever has a masterful handling of axes. Macuil forged his weapons with the belief that only one’s ability should limit them, not what blood they were born into. You keep rejecting my offers to pay for your artwork, so think of this as compensation. And congratulations on completing all your exams, and thanks for being patient with my oddities. You have become a very good friend to me, and I can think of no other capable ax wielder.”

She’d die a little but wouldn’t be able to give an exact reason as to of what. Happiness for being so appreciated? Angst for possibly pigeonholing herself as a friend? Another jumble of mish-mashed emotions welling up? “I like your oddities,” they were cute, even his initial grouchiness was cute once finding out how sweet he truly was. The stories he wrote for his little sister. How he worried for others. His small smiles. How he’d get excited about things. All of it was cute.

“Do you?” There was a shift of curiosity in his words before he took that as good humor, “splendid, I’ve grown to appreciate your eccentricities as well.”

Flayn was right. There were areas where he found himself blind. It was kinda tough to dispute when he acknowledged her as a weirdo without much irony and was cute while doing so.

Hilda barely uttered a sound when Ellwood said to them from the vault entrance, “Seteth, Hilda. There you two are, it’s almost time for us to have our prayer before leaving, everyone else is waiting.”

There was an inaudible but very much there sigh on Seteth’s face, “I took up too much of your time.” How long had it been since he was late for something?

“It’s alright, I told you: early enough to be late,” she pepped. “We’ll be right over in a minute,” Hilda replied for them to the falcon knight. She turned back to him, “thank yo— _oh sweet Serios,_ ” Ukonvasara wasn’t deceitful about its heaviness like Freikugel and they were of similar size. This was gonna crack through armor like a walnut. Luckily, she’s worked with bulky axes enough to know how to adjust her handling and better distribute the weight. 

If nothing else Seteth got some enjoyment out of it. Not to fault him, itty bitty Hilda with a huge ax almost as tall as herself. As always, he was polite trying to diminish the loss of composure. “You’ll get accustomed to it soon,” he held out his palm to lead her forward to the single set of large double doors.

**…**

Seteth yawned. An embarrassment really. The flapping of his wyvern’s wings and distance were kind enough to mask such a slip. It was this traveling; they been on an alternative route for several hours. The sky was uncomfortably too blue and pleasant. The speed in which he flew provided a breeze that made the warm spring day have the perfect temperature. He glanced down and figures, the younger green bishop napped on the back of the cart that carried their supplies. If only he, himself, was born with such a lack of shame.

The Great Bridge of Myrddin, the pride of the Gloucester house. It was a marvel of architecture. It gave pathway through the Airmid river which marked a border between the Leister Alliance and Adrestia. That alone would give significance to a modest bridge, but the Gloucester bloodline knew nothing of modesty. They spent an inordinate amount of gold and a full decade of intensive labor to have this monster of a fortress-bridge built. It was so large that it lingered on the horizon kilometers and kilometers away.

**…**

“How unsettling,” Lysithea muttered as the group took a rest before it was time to make their move, “house Ordelia has a couple of bridges in the southern part—but nothing at all like this.”

Claude was unfazed by the Great Bridge, “this is the best strategic position we can regain control of,” an understatement. Many doors to victory could be spread wide open with the overtaking and maintenance of this fortress. The Empire’s access to any allies within the Alliance would be shut down, especially the dagger to Gloucester’s back. Newfound confidence in the unity of the Leister Alliance throughout the region. An immediate point of entry to Adrestrian territory.

With house Gloucester’s soldiers dealing with a staged problem up in the north, there was some optimism in avoiding too much casualty.

“The Empire will want to fight to keep it at all costs,” Claude went on.

“Let’s not waste any time,” Byleth tweaked the light armor on his dark wears.

Lysithea straightened her posture to reclaim her height and confidence, “right, let’s get this done while they have their guard down and little time to retaliate.”

Claude placed a hand on Byleth’s shoulder, “you’re in charge of leading us, my friend. As long as you don’t sacrifice a majority of us for victory. Avoid that.”

Byleth gave a single nod. “Shamir, how soon can you and Félix give us access to the top of the bridge?”

“Twenty minutes.”

The professor announced to the rest of the army, “you heard the woman, you have 10 minutes for any last-minute preparations. You already know your formations and be sure that everyone in your battalion is ready to go if you’re assigned one.”

Seteth saw Bernadetta as she debated slinking away to the far reaches of the back without needing a word.

“You can do this,” he quietly assured her as he handed her the additional steel arrows she overlooked.

The purple-haired archer-priest gulped a deep breath as she thanked him for the arrows and words, “right. I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.”

He further monitored the other soldiers for any loose ends within his sight before he retrieved Alena, “please confirm that the rest of the pegasus and falcon knights have their lances and armor ready. Anyone who isn’t feeling as secure, she’s allowed to stay further behind in the formation.”

“Yes sir, I’ll rally the rest of the girls now.” She made a sidestep to miss bumping into Hilda, “watch it, Shorty.” 

“Sorry,” she said, she already removed her maroon gloves to be replaced with dark leather and steel. It was not his intention to have her catch him as he massaged his eyelids, “are you alright? You were also looking out of it earlier.”

He shifted his hand from his face to loosen his sleeve, “yes. Yes, thank you. We both have to finish here.” This wasn’t the time for headaches, “we’ll leave together in a moment.”

She held him there with a tug of his arm, “you sure? I’m counting on you here.”

A lot of people were, they counted on each of them to make this a success. Though the words that came from her felt beyond the nebulous soldier-to-soldier and there was a familiar comfort in them. “I’m positive. I’m counting on you too, so please be careful.”

**…**

The Empire troops positioned on the top of the bridge weren’t a large number and the few who guarded the east entrance were discreetly silenced. By the time the remainder of the red troops were made aware, Claude’s army was upon them.

“It’s an enemy raid! Everyone, remain calm and face them head-on,” Ladislava projected her instruction to the Imperial troops while on her wyvern.

Shamir summoned her Pegasus with a whistle and climbed on. She took the opportunity to grab a view of the landscape before she lowered herself to Byleth, Seteth, and Claude, “three demonic beasts to the west end, other than that, it appears to be a manageable group.”

“ _Three?_ I suppose it isn’t like we’ve dealt with more than one before. We also cannot discount the possible number of reinforcements,” Seteth pointed.

“That and Ladislava has garnered the title of Edelgard’s most trusted general, so we’ll have to see what she’s got,” Claude directed his wyvern higher, “remember, our goal is to take out the generals.”

Shamir followed after Claude and his battalion, providing cover as he headed for the unguarded ballista. Marianne came behind on foot.

Seteth and Byleth moved forward with their groups. Byleth and Félix headed the northern half. Seteth and Hilda, the southern half. Seteth saw that the center fortress had an additional entryway to the bridge, “there, more soldiers are coming from that trap door,” he alerted Byleth, “if we take out their access, those reinforcements should cease.” He then called to Hilda, “let’s shut them down from our side. Aim for the snipers first.”

Hilda dodged an armored knight’s lance and flew down with her silver ax, “got it.”

They fought their way further south, which for the two of them heading their group wasn’t an issue. Bernadetta was also doing her job well as she shot from a distance and monitored those who called for assistance.

The aura of powerful magic used brushed over his nerves, and he whirled his head around as yellow soldiers teleported onto the bridge, “Hilda, behind you.” Warpers, how troublesome. The group of fliers dispersed from the magic attack and to reclaim an image of their surroundings. 

“I’ve got to make my name known to Her Majesty,” the blonde thin warlock boasted as he stroked his chin.

“How pleasant, Acheron,” Lorenz groaned as he steadied his black horse.

Claude gave the order as he fired a long-ranged arrow to the other side, “if Acheron wants to side with the Empire, we have no use for him. Take him out, Hil.”

With the aggravated wyvern and equally aggravated rider, Acheron was dawning to the recognition of the foolish choice made, “I’m not in for a beating, am I?”

“Sorry, it’s either you or me,” she said and cut his career as an Imperial ally short.

Seteth and the others pressed to work on claiming this section of the battle. The Imperial troops filtered from the central fortress, using their allies’ appearance as an adequate distraction.

The further around the central fortress they were, the closer in range to the huge demonic beasts that paced around in search of a victim. These were a bastardized creation; another tool from malicious arts and further exploitation of the crests. This battle might have not been completely in their favor if they elected to bring the winged variation instead. The four-legged beasts trotted haphazardly, the tassels on the oversized stone masks moved like a second mouth while their narrow heads waved to sense their distance. This bridge was far too big. If the beasts missed, there were enough armored soldiers there to fill in the gap and more came through from Adrestria’s border. Claude used the ballista to his advantage and focused as he chipped away at the beasts he could reach.

Every shift of vision provided information that needed to be accounted for. New information that moved so rapidly and added to the haze. Seteth could no longer make out the shapes of the unlucky troops that met his killer ax. It was much easier to process that those who charged at him in red uniforms were to be cut down. “The center fortress is ours, bolt that entrance shut and keep anyone from accessing the top,” Seteth demanded as he flew further past the remainder of the army with his flock of falcon and Pegasus knights attempting to keep up.

“Focus on the beasts,” Byleth told both groups, “if you have a bow with you or a long-distance spell, now is the time to use them.” 

“I’ll provide cover against the soldiers,” Seteth offered without pause. They were at the midpoint of the bridge and the end was close insight. 

“Seteth, wait up,” Hilda called, “you’re moving too fast.”

Too fast? He had to keep pace. Everything else moved as fast if not faster. The paladins and cavaliers kept coming. The demonic beasts were a few swipes away. Drag this too long and the number of suffering and dead would mount. This had to be finished soon.

His instinctual eye caught the instantaneous charging of the demonic beast’s fireball, “scatter,” he said to his faction. Did they get too close in range? He’d expect the beast to focus their attention on the soldiers actively targeting it.

“To repay Her Majesty’s favor…I will not let you pass!” Ladislava outstretched her hand as she and her men released a cart of explosives directly in his path.

Seteth and part of the flock with him didn’t have the opportunity to think or move. He rose his arms to his face as the mix of fire, wood, and metal flew in front of them. His wyvern shrieked as he took the brunt of the attack. Seteth didn’t recognize that he dropped his ax, he was immediately concerned with holding onto the frantic, startled, and potentially injured wyvern. He tightened his hold more with each swish. His eyes filled with blurs of color. His ears rung from the blast and the sounds of the affected. The smell of burnt gunpowder added to the disorientation. He must take back control. The severity of a fall from this height would undeniably break something.

The Imperial General was there, he didn’t have to see clearly to know, “I heard you were the one to smite Rowe’s best knight. Looking at your ability up until this point, the church does employ terrifying people,” her voice traveled as if she avoided something.

Seteth didn’t grasp what it was that moved her attention from him, but anything for a diversion. He needed to calm the flailing wyvern. He couldn’t move nor accurately attack in this state. He focused on speaking to his winged mount and stroking his neck slowly in hopes to quell the panic. He kept himself low and close so that even if Ladislava ended up killing his wyvern, his drop would be softened. A dark thought, but ultimately, he had faith that that wouldn’t be the case.

The division that managed to avoid the explosion returned to the group, “tend to and get the wounded away from here, I have this situation covered,” it wasn’t going to be helpful if they added to Aris’ stress with their attempts to aid him. The pegasi and their riders were far more fragile and their protection not built for such an attack.

Ladislava was averted away by the falcon knights and Hilda flew straight to avoid the remaining demonic beast’s attack. As soon as she was close enough, Hilda swung her hand ax, the older woman steered herself from the blow. The Imperial general grew aware that she was wasting precious seconds to maintain the upper hand and pressed her wyvern to barrel past the winged horses, “even if it costs me my life, I will protect the Great Bridge,” regardless if she lost here, she was forward-thinking to know it would benefit the Empire for the church to lose such an asset.

Seteth’s hand felt the slight evening of breath, he needed to use this slow-growing moment of clarity wisely. Any sloppier and she could counter, thus left his efforts for naught.

Ladislava’s forward movement was harshly pushed back as Byleth aimed his arrow and pierced her exposed neck. She toppled from the height of her wyvern with a thud. Her mouth failed to grasp at the air in any valuable way as her blood fell onto the stone bridge.

The sound of clopping sped to meet them, “Ladislava, NO!” It was a voice and a face that Seteth hadn’t seen for years. He heard indiscreet talks about what became of the Aegir house after Edelgard assumed control of Adrestria. The nobility status heavily treasured and maintained for almost a thousand years was stripped the day she took the throne. It was unknown what happened to the former duke, as far as anyone’s guess he was an exile. He left his eldest son to salvage whatever scraps of his old life. There was a personal twinge inside Seteth, as he looked to Ferdinand’s hardened face. They shared a similar print. The memories of the beginning of Aegir and the friendship he made with a humble knight.

“Ferdinand, back off! It’s over, you lost,” Hilda redirected the redhead to her.

The paladin’s face twisted as if the idea of another stain to his pride was worse than any sharp edge, “what makes you believe I’ll take instruction from an uncultured noble who doesn’t even know how to brew tea,” he took his lance to direct the meager army that remained and charged, “victory will be made! After this battle, I’ll be known far and wide as the legendary Ferdinand of Adrestria!”

Seteth placed his hand to take the lance he still had strapped to his wyvern. He recognized that she was frozen by what was going on in front of her, “Hilda—"

Byleth moved silently and intercepted Ferdinand’s path. His face gave nothing as the stallion was pulled to a halt. The horse gave a strong neigh as it rose to its back legs for a moment. Ferdinand glared at the professor from his steed, “Edelgard has always been obsessed with you. I will admit I’m quite envious.” He twirled his lance before aiming at the man, “I’ll just have to impress her by taking you down on the battlefield.”

Byleth slid his feet with such speed as the blade shot past him and nothing but the sound of a steel sword impaling Ferdinand’s chest was audible. The young general coughed blood as his trembling hand gripped Byleth’s black sleeve, to which was met with the final twist of the blade before being pulled out. Ferdinand was dead before the contact with the concrete. Byleth stared at the corpse for a moment longer before he walked away, “we’re done here. If any other Imperial soldier wants to die, they’re welcome to. Otherwise, they’re allowed to retreat. I want those with healing magic to aid any of our men—”

“You killed him,” Hilda unmounted from her wyvern.

“I did.”

This only made her brow knot further as she made her way in front of him, “you didn’t have to—Ferdinand, he wasn’t—He’s not—”

“He had an opportunity to surrender. He didn’t. He chose his ambition over his life,” he stepped forward as his face remained unchanged, “if placing a name and a face to a soldier you kill disturbs you so much, you’re free to leave.”

Claude rose his hands, “Woah woah, there’s no need to go that far, it’s just—”

“’Just’ what?” Byleth looked over to Claude and then the silent crowd, “this goes for all of you: don’t believe that because you attended the same academy or have familiar bonds, they would think twice for you,” he watched each of his former students’ faces. “Healers, you know what to do. There will be a group here for cleanup. Again, we’re done here.”

Seteth felt the surge of pain as he grounded himself and caught up with Byleth, “professor, this is a very young group and already so much for many of them. They can’t process and accept this all at once.” They didn’t spend the majority of their lives raised as a mercenary; they didn’t have the ability to wholly sever ties to those from their past.

“I know,” Byleth showed a modicum of gentleness, “don’t worry me again.”

Seteth understood that emotion was a place of weakness for the professor, so there was some comfort in his words, “I’ll do my best to avoid it. But, please, continue to be there for them during this time. This army trusts and believes in you, and the path we’re headed will only grow harsher.”

Byleth gave a nod. 

**…**

After the hurt were attended to, the mounts and arms put away, and any Imperial troops that remained within the bridge were forced to flee; the main group regathered on the bridge once Judith arrived with her men.

“Great job, everyone, the Great Bridge is ours,” Claude started light.

Leonie and a good portion of those that stood around them carried their apprehension, “I knew there would be bloodshed, but this was more than I was expecting. I don’t know if I’ll get used to this.”

“So many of our foes refused to quit and fought to the bitter end,” Ignatz lowered his gaze to where they were fighting only hours ago.

Byleth spoke to Ignatz and the group with clarity, “it will be difficult, but we must overcome this.”

Ignatz rose his head, “yes, we can’t afford to stall here." 

Claude’s smile widened towards the professor. “Alright Lorenz, can you head over to your house and stay there for the time being until you can lay the groundwork with your father?”

Lorenz exhaled, “fine. My father’s a difficult man but, this is for the Alliance—or rather all of Fódlan, after all.”

Claude turned, “for those who live in Alliance territories, I ask that you return to your houses and give everyone the news. Judith will be in charge of protecting the Great Bridge.”

Judith laughed to herself, “that’s a casual way to dole out a deadly mission, boy.”

“Do you object?”

“Humph. Just who do you think I am? I won’t let the Empire pass this way, even at the cost of my life.”

Claude cut in, “too bad you’re not allowed to die. Fight hard, but leave if you’re truly in danger.”

The older woman grinned, “quite the sentimental type, are you boy? Don’t worry, I’ll use my best discretion, Claude.” 

“We have no objections either. Go forth and secure us a sufficient army,” Seteth spoke for the Knights of Seiros.

“What about me?” Byleth asked Claude.

“Actually, I’d like for you to travel with me, Teach. Help negotiate with the lords, especially since it’ll be easier to have someone speak on Rhea’s behalf.” The Alliance leader gave a deep breath, “alright everyone, we all have a job to do. Let’s meet back at the monastery once we’re all done. Good luck out there.”

**…**

Lorenz’s house was kind enough to give quarter to the soldiers who didn’t have immediate orders to travel to their territories. Something which Seteth was grateful for, he would’ve likely collapsed somewhere in the middle of all that travel from exhaustion, and Aris needed time to heal his nerves as well as his cuts.

Seteth spent the initial half-hour of their stay consoling Bernadetta. She was his faction’s healer, sure, but she couldn’t heal and shoot at the same time and others needed her help more. He didn’t get to this age by being so easily killed, even so, he felt more than guilty to worry others.

His ears stopped ringing hours ago, after cleaning up, and making sure that there wasn’t anything that rest couldn’t take care of, he was pushed away from doing anything further. _‘Go to sleep’_ , that was his task while at the Gloucester house, _‘Alois and Lorenz would manage from there.’_

The blast certainly woke him up more than he would have liked for it to. If nothing else, that’s the reason he stuck with while he avoided the prepared bed and opted to head outside. The entire estate was suffocating with its gaudiness. Purple and gold were motifs for the interior. Purple was the color of Gloucester— _'and one of the most expensive colors to make, with only the best dyes money could buy’_ —and gold for their standing as one of the major houses of the Leister Alliance. It didn't take long to learn the reason as to why the stay within the actual estate was limited to higher positions and nobles, turn around and there would be something worth stealing within arm’s reach.

The stables, unfortunately, had limited availability for wyverns; they were primarily built for horses, with a stand-alone two-door stable for wyverns further down. So only Seteth’s and Petra’s wyverns were given space inside, while the rest were tied to individualized posts for the night. Seteth spotted her as she loitered beside the stable, “Hilda? Aren’t you supposed to be heading for the Goneril house?”

She watched the spread-out wyverns as they slept with their wings hugging their body, “nah, I’ll just send a letter and Claude’s gonna see my brother anyways,” she waved it off.

He stood awkwardly in the silence. “I’m sorry about your friend,” he said.

She slid her arms to hold herself, “friend?” She shook her head, “Ferdinand was basically another guy that I talked into doing what I wanted. The only difference was that he’d be as loud as Lorenz with how I should do this or be that as a noble. I bet if I wasn’t a noble, he wouldn’t have spoken to me anyway unless it was to _save me from my poor commoner’s existence._ ”

“You don’t believe that.”

She glanced at her dusty boots, “why didn’t he leave? Anyone else with eyes could see that there was no point to continue fighting. He’d be alive, figure out another way to regain his title tomorrow. Instead, it’s…over. Why are you here? You should be asleep.”

He should be. “I wanted to check on Aris,” it could have waited for tomorrow morning. They did an immediate check when they were able to, his wings were unharmed, and the armor blocked any severe damage to his softer underbelly.

“He’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “it was a blessing that the blast only killed a couple of the pegasi.” Honestly, the demonic beast’s fireball that led them there was another saving grace, the faction separated because of it. “But it could have been avoided and I caused a lot of unneeded stress.” He couldn’t say that he was sorry that she was left further behind, he was relieved that she wasn’t caught up in the incident.

He saw in her face that she wanted to be mad with how her large eyes turned his way, but they fell back down as she teetered on her shoes.

Seteth sighed. He was pulled by the gravity of the bridge which loomed nearby. “Would you be willing to accompany me to the Great Bridge?” When she didn’t appear to object, he hesitated as he reached for her hand to which she clasped to his. She normally wore gloves to lessen the effect of handling a weapon, but he still felt the treated calluses on her palm.

**…**

They stood on the concrete, with signs from the early process of cleaning to lighten the stains. He watched as she stared at the grey stone. “They were just bad guys, doing bad things,” she murmured, “kinda dumb when you say it out loud.”

“It isn’t. War isn't always clean-cut, no matter how much we wish for it to be.”

Her hand hadn’t left his, “makes everything else seem so petty. Drawing. Jewelry making. Tournaments. Bugging Claude.”

He took her other hand, “refusing any form of comfort and falling into despair, won’t bring respect to the dead either. Allow yourself to grieve and do what you must to protect your spirit, there is no weakness in that.”

She leaned her head against him, “don’t you ever get tired of helping people?”

He didn’t answer.

“Promise you’ll take care of yourself too, okay? I don’t want you to end up like Macuil.”

“Alright, I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame finals for a good chunk of the time that it took to get this out. It's always a crazy time to get everything in and with what's going on in the world, yeesh. I hope all y'all that took your finals did well and survived the semester well enough. Planning on taking summer classes as well so heads up, hopefully I won't be slowed down too much. (I almost forgot! I made these cuz eff they cute https://i.redd.it/jdudcu4ygdw41.jpg )
> 
> Anyways: Chapter 10! *-* I'm surprised how long it turned out being myself. At the very least I can make up for the delayed update with a meaty chapter. For someone whose used to having 2-3 page chapters, I'm pretty happy with myself with how consistent and substantial these chapters have been. This is also my current favorite chapter (I know I say that almost every time but really this time, I mean it). 
> 
> The battles and the "intro" "conclusion" group discussions still are being written by ear. I don't want to do a complete shot-to-shot rewrite if I don't need to. As long as I take snippets, or keep within the spirit of what makes sense for the scene. Hence, uber short "intro" for the bridge and more accurate to game "conclusion" for this chapter. 
> 
> This fight (in game) was really the only time that I worried about Seteth. Normally I don't have to, I just throw him there and he's dependable in killing whatever's in front of him. But that ONE time that the gambit hits. Hey, I gotta set up and a scene out of it. I also honestly believe that Seteth can be one of those over productive people that need the occasional chaining to the bed to get them to rest. 
> 
> Dunno about you, but I'm not the biggest Ferdinand/Hilda fan. It's not a NOTP by any means, it's just one of those ships that doesn't bring the best out of the other (and actually praises the worst out of the other) and I'd ask "whay? There are so many better ships for both of them before shipping them together crosses your mind." Then again, I'm probably speaking to the ether since F/H isn't a popular ship anyways. Still hurt tho, to shank my poor noble bee.
> 
> Byleth is also an interesting character to write, you've got that dead-eyed stare, ignorant about himself and interacting with people (but barely cared that he was until recently), but he still cares about others in his little dead heart although he struggles in expressing it. I try to teeter in that misinterpreted sociopathic nature (all three lords mention in one way or another how they thought he didn't have a heart/humanity, and eeyy "Ashen Demon"). Really, it's all the result of having a literal blank-slate character that slowly is growing into their skin.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone enjoys a welcome party.

“Such an utter waste. Unbelievable,” Seteth’s frown grew while he sat on the horse-drawn cart.

His cart partner rested his temple on his hand, “now do you understand my pain, Seteth? Though, if I had your degree of resilience, I would gladly give up two days every few weeks to recharge from my research.” Linhardt muttered to himself, “truly the only waste was that Lorenz refused to give me the spare key to your room.”

Seteth’s glare moved to the young bishop, “I’ll be sure to give further thanks to him and his family after we reach the monastery.”

“Oh come now, we’re going to be on the road for a few hours anyway so we can turn that around,” Linhardt eased himself closer to Seteth. “Not only is your crest rare and valuable—made even more so by the possible erasure of the Agier bloodline—but it’s even rarer for two crest bearing siblings to have different crests. Major crests on top of that,” those blue eyes with the same irritating glint that he saw in Hanneman.

“No.”

“No? Seteth, you were part of the administration in a renowned academy, how could you deny the development of indispensable research of all things?”

He moved his attention to the sky where the wyvern and pegasi flew, now he coveted the smooth trip from above. Instead of every bump and jolt from the irregularity on the ground. There wasn’t even a place to sit on the cart that carried his wyvern, much to his dismay.

“So which parent carried which bloodline?”

“I don’t know,” Seteth answered, “I would _appreciate_ it if you would please leave me in peace.”

 _Tsk. Tsk. Tsk._ “Ignorance is not a good look on you, Seteth,” he shook his head as he unclipped the book he carried with him and wrote a note, “I could help you with that if you would give me something to work with. How many times does your crest activate on average and how much would you attribute your fighting skill to it?”

“I’ve been given legs, I will be making more use of them,” he gave the driver a tap to allow him to step off the cart. “Thank you, I can carry on from here.”

Linhardt sighed, “more space for me then,” he stretched his legs to where Seteth was seated.

* * *

Flayn trailed beside him while he spoke to the head bishop, “from the numbers provided by Byleth and the other church branches, we’ll fill in the empty dorms first. That should provide board for half of this new group,” he presented the overlay of the academy.

“Impressive how quickly we’ve gotten overcapacity,” the older woman tapped her cheek as she gave each empty space a read, “the goddess has blessed us much.”

Seteth nodded, “she has. That is also why I needed to speak with you, before we ask the townspeople of Gerrag Mach to provide quarter, I’d like to offer the rooms within the church first. Instead of having two wings for the priests, nuns, and bishops; we’ll have one and share rooms amongst them. Of course, this means that this section of the army will also have to share rooms.”

“If we position the beds this way, I believe we can fit three smaller beds per room,” she motioned with her hands, “will that be enough for now until we can have bunk beds made?”

“Excellent, then this initial wave should have a bed ready once they arrive. I apologize deeply for the short notice, but do you believe we can have three rooms prepared by tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“I would’ve preferred more time as well. The message was relayed last night.”

“When you said Master Claude and the professor would be away gathering additional troops, I was expecting several weeks,” she straightened the hat that was part of her religious garbs, “I will alert the rest of the congregation. I believe it’ll be feasible to clean and set up the beds by dark.”

“Do you need me to assign others to assist?”

“Brother.”

The bishop’s sagged cheeks were pushed up by her smile as she sympathized with Flayn, “don’t trouble yourself, Seteth, I’m sure I can find some strong helpers on my way over there. No need to bore your sister with so many errands.” She gave a nod, “please excuse me, I’ll update you when I can.”

“Thank you.” Seteth directed his gaze back to the map of the academy, he needed to gauge how many additional cooks, garden help, and so forth will be assigned. He at least knew that it wouldn’t be for another couple of weeks until available soldiers from the other churches reached Gerrag Mach. There was a moment for proper adjustment.

Flayn leaned her head back and attempted to add some height to herself as she read over the map also, “you said that you would not work today.”

“I apologize. That was my intention, but we must be flexible to what is needed,” he said before he folded the map and placed it in his coat pocket, “now, that should be all—as of the current moment.” He looked down to his beam of light, “it’s looking to be a nice day, after our trip to the market would you like to have a picnic, Flayn?”

“That does sound pleasant,” she began, “but brother, something has been disturbing me recently.”

Disturbing? “What is it? I’ll alleviate whatever it is that bothers you immediately. Has anyone been unkind to you?”

“No, brother. Nothing of that nature,” she held her hands as the stony walkway transitioned into the carpet, “I was simply musing all that you do while I remain behind.”

He fixed his posture, “Flayn, the answer is still no.”

“But brother, how am I supposed to find ease knowing that you are going to be fighting in enemy land? I have been practicing with reason magic and with the staff, I will be at a distance as before.”

“ _Before_ was a desperate situation. There are enough soldiers and mages to not warrant such a thing.”

“Can I not be given the opportunity to be there to assist my peers and friends?”

Seteth inhaled, “Flayn, you have plenty of opportunities to help outside of the range of danger. Don’t discount the equally important responsibilities that can be done here.” If only she was this dedicated about the gardens or rebuilding the monastery.

“Greetings, Seteth! I have something to report, sir,” the gatekeeper saluted with that jovial nature.

“Good news, I assume?”

“I’ve caught talks of an upcoming celebration to welcome Master Claude and the Alliance soldiers to Gerrag Mach.”

Flayn leapt in her heels in elation, “a celebration? How delightful!”

“Sure is! Shamir told Catherine, who told Alois, who told the entire tavern—that’s where I heard it—and of course, once word gets to me, it’s my job to report,” he said, “seems like the town wanted to give a welcome party.”

“May we attend, brother? It has been so long since we had such joyous times,” she pulled on him.

“You’d expect we would hold off on the joyous times until the war is won,” Seteth thought out loud.

“The reunification of the Alliance sounds like a good enough reason to be festive,” the gatekeeper interjected, “c’mon, big brother.”

“I don’t know, it sounds like there’ll be a large crowd of people,” he held his chin, “what if you get lost?”

“I will not get lost. You said that we could do what I wanted today,” she pleaded at him with those precious green eyes.

Seteth spoke, “I suppose I’ll be needed to welcome the new support…”

Flayn clapped, “marvelous!”

He rose his hand, “if it gets too hectic, I want you to head back to our quarters and I’ll follow shortly thereafter, understood?”

She nodded, “if it remains unhectic does that mean I can stay throughout the entire night?”

He smiled as he gestured for them to continue forward, “now we don’t want to get carried away,” he exchanged a parting nod with the gatekeeper and they walked down the steps towards the market place.

**…**

Annette held the empty teacup to her face, “like this, Hilda?”

“Yes, yes, just like that,” she raised her hands to freeze the redhead there while she stepped back and picked her stack of papers and pencil up. She made scratching sounds on the textured paper as she sketched. “Marianne, loosen up a bit, you don’t want to be too stiff,” she instructed.

Marianne’s brown eyes tried in vain to look to Hilda without turning her head, “I’m sorry…” She exhaled and allowed her shoulders to dip ever so slightly.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t want you to tire yourself out so soon,” she drew as she glanced up and down from the stack to them.

Annette giggled, “you look super serious,” she immitated the dead-faced expression Hilda carried while she kept her pose.

"Shuush! You’re gonna mess me up,” Hilda grinned. 

**…**

“Lemme look,” Annette ran over to Hilda’s side and nearly toppled the small, round tea table, “oops, sorry! Thanks for the save, Mary.”

“It’s nothing to get all that excited for,” Hilda said.

“What do you mean? Finally, my talents have been realized as a model,” she lifted her head high with a hand on her jutted-out hip.

Hilda pushed her with her body, “look at _you_ , cutie over here!”

“I’m not cute! I’m a goddess,” she deepened her childish voice as she gave a flip of her shoulder-length hair.

Marianne covered her face while she remained seated.

“Look what you did, you broke her with your _goddess_ powers,” they leaned on each other.

Their laughs and snickers were controlled as they composed themselves, and Annette hugged Hilda tightly, “you sure you’re going to stick around? I’d completely get it if you didn’t, I’d write you a whole bunch of letters, and with the roads in Leister becoming less crazy with Imperial troops I could visit you at your territory.”

“It’s not like this is all going away once I’m back home,” she said, “trust me, I’ve waited for it to do just that.”

Annette sat on Hilda’s bed, “I know what you mean. I want this all to be over, so I don’t have to worry about my uncle and mother so much. But we have the professor, Claude, and the church. And seeing the others from all three classes tells me that I made the right choice returning here. Though, I wish it could be all of us; I know I was never close to Ferdinand but…I still saw him every day when I went on my way to class. He used to always look so happy to me.” She sighed, “everything’s so crazy and strange now.” 

Marianne moved from her seat to the bed, “perhaps now you can move your mother to Gerrag Mach or within the Leister Alliance.”

“Great idea, we can all help out—”

“If I were to bring mother here, the Empire would lash out at my uncle and the people living in Dominic territory,” she said, “I know my uncle is doing what he can to keep all of them safe and the best I can do is help in taking away the Empire’s hold on Faerghus.”

“Another reason to not back off from the fight. We’re here for you and the rest of Faerghus, Annie. Right, Marianne?”

Marianne nodded.

Annette wrapped an arm around them on either side to pull them in for a group hug, “thanks, you two. I know things are going to turn around for the better.” She brought her attention back to the small stack of sheets, “so, let me see what you did.”

Hilda hummed, “I’m technically not done with it yet…this just the rough of the rough try,” her mouth scrunched up as she examined the sketch.

Annette blinked, “how…abstract. I mean—in a good way, of course!”

“I told you it was nothing to get excited over. Besides, in the end, it’s not going to be _you,_ it’s going to be one of the characters. I simply needed a few models to help me out with some of the scenes.”

“Characters? You’re making a book, Hilda?? OOH! That sounds like so much fun! I didn’t know you could write too,” she glowed as she leaned in closer, “which characters are we?”

“I um, well, I didn’t write…but uh,” she focused back on the drawing, “you’re going to be a bird…”

“A bird? How funny!”

“Uh-huh. And Marianne is going to be a doe.”

“Birds and deer having tea parties? That’s so cute!”

_“Right??”_

“What kind of bird am I?”

“Huh.” Hilda stared at the picture harder, “good question. I guess I need to pick one before I get into the nitty-gritty.”

“How about a finch? Finches are fun.”

“Hmm…you kinda remind me of a nuthatch,” Hilda commented.

Annette gasped, “you’re right! What do you think, Mary?”

“Oh, I can see that. Especially with the orange belly and blue,” Marianne mused.

Annette asked, “can I see it when you’re done?”

“I don’t know, I promised Claude that he’d be the first one to look and I’m not sure if this is ‘the one’ yet,” she explained. Would showing the pencils before the finished process be considered cheating? Then again, Annette could have already unwittingly seen her stuff during the readings. It wasn’t like anyone needed an invitation.

“Well, let me know when Claude sees it, cuz I want to see it too,” Annette kicked the air.

Marianne gave a wave, “I’d like to see it too.”

Dang it. She didn’t intend to develop an actual crowd, “I’ll be sure to let you know when Claude’s invited.” She straightened herself, “speaking of Claude, I just received a letter from him this morning. He’s coming back to the monastery tonight.”

Annette’s eyes widened, “wow, that was fast!”

“Knowing Claude, he set things up before we even left for the bridge.” It was likely that the major players of the roundtable were given the date he expected to arrive at the Alliance capital, Derdriu.

“No wonder I kept hearing of something going on in town earlier. I thought it was one of those big town weddings, would’ve been more romantic,” Annette laid down on Hilda’s bed.

“What’s romantic about a gathering of additional soldiers?”

“Nothing! That’s my point! I know we’re in the middle of a war ‘n’ all, but where’s the romance? Two lovers trying to make it side by side as they face the odds in a crazy time?”

“You never know,” Hilda leaned back on one of her arms as she removed the stack of paper and sketches from her lap, “maybe he’ll come along with the reinforcements.”

Annette’s legs bounced on the edge of the bed, “don’t tell me that, I’ll have to redo my make-up before we go into town.”

“As long as you don’t get too excited you should be able to get away with freshening up before then—at least that’s my plan.”

“What do you mean? What if your secret crush shows up? You gotta spruce up somewhat,” she said.

Hilda pouted, “I dunno. You’d think by now, I’d know what he thought of me.”

“Aw Hil, don’t worry, worst case scenario there’s a whole buncha other guys practicably tripping on themselves to be with you.”

“I _guess_. Sometimes I think I’m getting somewhere and then he makes speeches about being great friends and gives me a _really_ nice ax—”

Annette used her legs and kicked her upper half up, “OH! I know who it is now! Caspar!”

She stared at her, she turned her head and mulled over it more, “Oh my god, Caspar _would_ do that.” Although Caspar’s speech would be much louder and filled with that hyper boyish air, “no, it isn’t him.”

Annette snapped her fingers, “aw, I thought I had it. Okay, so not him.”

Marianne peeked her head toward Hilda, “if it is the goddess’s will, he’ll make his deeper feelings clear. He simply may not want to court during the war.”

That sounded responsible enough to be very plausible for someone like Seteth. “ _Auuggh_ , a billion and one reasons I can’t stand this. Damn it, Edelgard, it’s not enough to be an evil dictator. You have to meddle in my love life too?”

**…**

“Brother, hurry,” Flayn walked at a brisk pace. She excused herself as she made her way through the gathering of people.

“Flayn, don’t rush too far ahead,” Seteth’s gaze didn’t wander from her much, at the same time he noted the glimpses of their surroundings. The merchants and their patrons laughed. The off-duty soldiers in looser, more comfortable clothing, chatted with the ones that were supposed to be on-duty while they carried their helmets under their arm. Admittedly, it didn’t take long before Seteth was felt by the idle crew and they gave him a modest grin before it was covered by their headgear. They left their comrades with a wave and him a point to the direction to signal they were headed back to their post. Perhaps in the next event, he’d be more lenient to allow them to take part of the festivities.

Alois and Catharine were dressed in their armor, Seteth requested that they remain within the gathering, just in case. They were free to participate otherwise; the only objection came from Catherine when hearing that she had to remain largely sober for the night.

He kept stride with the short green teen. A small boy atop his father’s shoulders. He remembered when Flayn was that young, kicking her twig legs as she demanded to go onwards or when she was too excited.

 _“HYRRGRAAAHHH,”_ Raphael’s guttural battle yell piqued the interest of both green members.

Flayn made a sharp turn to meet with the group within the crowd where the blonde warrior sat in front of a frustrated brigand who made way for another challenger.

Petra saw the two, “have you come to…join on…the wrestling of arms? Raphael has acquired many of the victory,” the Bridgid Princess greeted them.

Seteth began to shake his head, “oh no—”

Flayn ran to the empty chair, “how do you participate in this wrestling of arms?”

“Flayn! Get up from that seat this instant.”

Raphael grinned, “oh, arm wrestling is easy. If you make my hand hit the table, I lose. If I make your hand hit the table, you lose. Easy peasy.”

“Is that all? See, brother, I will not be harmed.”

“If _wrestling_ is in the name, there is the potential,” he specified, “we can watch or go elsewhere.”

She groaned as she pushed her legs to the other side of the chair and stood close to him.

The seat was soon filled by an older wyvern lord, his half-drunk pint slammed on the side of the table as he held his hand out to take Raphael on his challenge. There was a 30-second stare down before the two large men acted on the unspoken ‘go.’ The muscles on their arms tensed as they tightened their grip on each other.

Raphael’s lips were straight and firm as he placed more force into his arm.

“This one gave y’all bellyachers trouble? He ain’t even forcin’ a vein,” he spoke to the crowd.

Their arms wobbled slightly as Raphael gritted his teeth and added an animalistic grunt to aid in pushing the other man’s arm.

The challenger didn’t break his gaze as he slammed Raphael’s hand on the wooden table with such a bang that made Seteth doubly thankful that it wasn’t Flayn’s thin hand that made that sound. “Haw haw haw, you’re more than 15 years too young to be work for me,” he boasted as he picked up his pint for a gulp, “least you warmed the seat for the next one.”

Seteth carefully led Flayn away from the crowd with a soft pull of her shoulder and to see what else went on, “hopefully Claude and the others are having a smooth trip to not arrive too late.”

“It would be unfortunate if the guests of honor missed their own welcome party,” Flayn’s head turned to different sides and searched for her next subject of interest. Seteth pulled her back to a sudden stop as she almost bumped into Annette, “ah! My apologies.”

“Oops! I’m so sorry Flayn, we almost crashed into each other there haha,” she placed a hand to her face, “you act fast, Seteth.”

“Thank you, you must be constantly aware of those around you with this size of group,” he caught himself before he noticeably trailed off when he saw the others with her.

“I know what you mean, my big brother’s always a watchdog with these things,” Hilda laughed with a wave.

Flayn tugged on him, “brother, I saw the baker’s stand this way.”

He looked back to Flayn, “just a moment, Flayn. I hope you three enjoy your time, Annette, Hilda, Marianne,” he acknowledged the three, “please pardon us.”

“I hope you enjoy yourselves,” Flayn led them past the merchants who took the occasion to be open later. He gave a glance back before he returned to focusing on Flayn. She kindly rejected their offers for a trinket or piece of jewelry and her place was taken by another more eager shopper. The further they went, the scent of food and spices traveled to their noses.

Ingrid and Félix stood near one of the carts. “Seteth, Flayn, good evening,” she said with a stick of sausage in her other hand.

“Hi,” Félix greeted.

Flayn ran to them and clasped her hands together, “is this not so much fun?”

“Yeah, it’s been fun seeing how much Ingrid can stuff in her face in a couple of hours,” Félix had a light smirk as he gave a nod to the blonde who took another bite of the sausage.

Ingrid stammered as she turned red, “I haven’t eaten _that_ much.”

“It has been some time since Gerrag Mach has had this good of food carts back in town,” Seteth said, “and tonight there’s no better excuse to enjoy them.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she threw a casual humph to Félix.

Flayn noticed that the redhead was missing from the trio, “so, does this mean that Sylvain was unable to attend the festivities?”

“He’s here,” Félix crossed his arms, “that idiot will pop up when he gets in some trouble.”

Ingrid shook her head, “I’m enjoying myself tonight, no way I’m saving him now. What are you two looking for? I’m telling you right now Lister’s stand over here…so good.”

Flayn giggled, “I can tell. Brother and I are heading to the baker’s stand, would you like to join us?”

“I can get a little something for dessert,” Ingrid looked to Félix.

“I’ll pass, not a fan of sweets,” he shrugged.

“I’m sure the baker will have some loaves for you to snack on,” Ingrid nudged him, “come on, be social.”

Félix gave a raspy sigh as he straightened his lean, “I let you two drag me here, didn’t I?” He walked a few feet, “what are you waiting for? Are we going or not?”

The three pairs of green eyes turned to each other. Ingrid finished off the last bit of sausage and tossed the stick in a pail for trash, “alright, alright, we’re coming.”

**…**

Hilda, Marianne, and Annette made their way closer to the entrance. As they walked the news begun to spread to the others in attendance with growing excitement.

“Master Claude and the cavalries have been spotted about half a kilometer away,” the words transferred from person to person. Each one with slight variation, but the overall message unchanged.

Annette smiled, “whew, I was sure everyone would be all tired out by the time they got here. It’s weird to think about how few people there were when we first came back to the academy. Though it’s too bad, I was sure I was going to finally meet that secret crush of yours at this party. Then again, this isn’t over yet, so we can still have a chance to see him.”

Was it terrible that she wished for more than a thirty-second conversation for the night? Had she known; she would have been more efficient with her words. Equating him to a brother and a watchdog was not the best sentence to come and leave with. Nah, she had another shot. If nothing else, everything else about the night was fun; found the perfect moonstone pieces for her jewelry, the right pigment for her future paints, a couple of yummy chocolate-dipped strawberries, and she was going to have more fun once Claude arrived. Tonight, was not a waste by any means. “There’s a chance,” she agreed. 

**…**

“Seteth, tell this one she’s nuts.”

“Me? I’m nuts?”

“An army of just fliers and healers? I need one bow to wipe all of you out.”

“No one can shoot that much that fast in such a short time. Besides, fliers have distance, speed, an advantage over terrain, and agility. You still have access to swords, axes, lances, and even bows. _Plus_ , with a decent group of physic healers on hand? You’ll be scared with your bow quick.”

“You’d probably do well for a battle or two,” Seteth said as he monitored the crowd while they waited near the entrance, “absolute disaster in the long run.”

“ _’ Absolute disaster,’_ ” Félix relished in the words. 

Ingrid replied, “what if we include magical fliers interlaced with the mix that have access to warping magic?”

Both Seteth and Félix gawked at her.

“Get out,” Félix pointed to the town gates.

Seteth shook his head, it would certainly still be a disaster, but he was more distracted by Flayn’s yawn. “Are you tired, Flayn?” He glanced around to search for Catharine who was likely not far behind. 

She blinked, “oh no. I am curious, who would um win in a duel…” she pressed her lips as she searched the names, “Kyphon or Loog?”

“Loog,” all three answered.

Flayn stumbled, “how can you be so certain of the victor?”

Ingrid started, “you see, they’ve dueled be—”

The crowd behind and around them lit up, “they’re here, they’re here!” Their merriments were rejuvenated, the chatter grew, and their desire to get a better view of the gates of Gerrag Mach was further shown.

Claude flew through the open gateway, “who told you guys you could throw a party without me? No invite either,” his grin failed to match with his chastising and brightened with the louder cheer in response.

Seteth stepped forward to separate himself from the larger faction of the quieting audience and joined with Byleth who headed the group on foot. Flayn caught up from behind and he waited for her before he addressed the dumbfounded cavalry and the expectant townspeople. “Gerrag Mach welcomes and appreciates you for your service. I am Seteth, advisor and second-in-command to the archbishop…”

“And I am Flayn, Seteth’s little sister,” Flayn bowed in appreciation.

“…we owe great thanks to the goddess for your safe arrival, may she continue to bless us in our goal to regain peace in Fódlan,” there was another uproar of praise. He rose his hand and guided them to the direction of the academy doors, “our church staff is prepared to assist each of you to your proper rooms and care for your mounts. Alois, our captain of the knights, is also present if you have any further questions. I hope that you take a moment to enjoy the town’s token of our gratitude, thank you once more,” he stepped aside with Flayn and allowed the newcomers in.

Claude whistled to the others in flying mounts and led them to the stables. 

Seteth turned to Byleth, “to receive aid this soon, I’m impressed.”

“I didn’t do much,” Byleth said.

“You did enough. I wasn’t in the proper position to travel so soon after the battle,” he said, “besides, you need to be more involved in these roles. Before long, you will be taking Rhea’s place.”

“We both know it isn’t my proper place.” Byleth left Seteth and Flayn with the other soldiers, “I’ll be heading off to bed.”

“Goodnight, professor,” Flayn called out before she yawned again.

A smile crept back onto Seteth’s lips, “you should be headed to bed as well.”

“Nonsense, I am as awake as ever,” she held her chin high as she scanned beyond the filtering soldiers. “Look, brother, the music is coming from there,” Once more she rushed to another interesting distraction.

**…**

The quartet of older men had the spirits of those children who bounced with the music in the space between them and the listeners. There were no music sheets nor specific directions to the band’s playing, simply a group of friends in tune with the celebration, the spectators, and each other. The violin headed the band with a deceptively loose precision. Each twist of his wrist beckoned his instrument to sing. The guitar and clarinet provided a unique harmonization that gave the airy violin weight. Further grounded by the drummer who controlled the beat and speed of their melody. 

“Crazy to think how many hours they must have spent practicing,” Catherine commented beside them, “and just for music of all things. Not that I’m complaining. What’s a party with no good music?”

“It’s impressive, I probably know two chords on the guitar,” Leonie said.

“Wonderful, is it not?” Flayn tapped with the beat in line with others in the crowd.

Seteth agreed. Though, his attention traveled to the other end of the crowd being parted by a pink and orange blur.

“This is so embarrassing!” Annette squealed in-between laughter as she was spun by her dance partner.

Considering that there was barely a difference in height, there wasn’t a problem in Hilda leading. Her steps gave a pleasing clack to the stone and dirt ground, as she took time to teach manageable footsteps for Annette. She rewarded her progress with another twirl. Hilda in turn allowed Annette to give her a spin, her knee-length maroon dress wrapped around her for a moment from the momentum. It was uncertain what was more magnetic, her carefree aura or her fun-loving smile. Eyes were on her and she fed on them, even as others grew comfortable enough to dance.

If the fact wasn’t obvious, it was made apparent when she slyly snuck Annette to dance with a handsome soldier. The other bachelors within the audience called to her, waved her over, and the more emboldened crossed the invisible line to approach her. There was an enviousness that found itself settled in the lower part of his stomach. If he couldn’t push the feeling down to his feet, he could rationalize it as being jealous of the wonders of youth. Yet, rationalizations were abandoned when she spotted him. When she walked past the men, others spotted him too. Envy was replaced with anxiety.

“Dance with me,” she held out her hand.

Words betrayed him, so he gave a habitual shake of the head and hoped she ignored his embarrassed face.

Her hand didn’t move, as she playfully mimicked his shake of the head. She saw right through him, “dance with me?” Her grin grew when he allowed himself to be pulled in which only led him to falter further.

Seteth took the lead when she faced him expectantly. He maintained his care as his hand held onto hers and noted the tempo of the festive music. Her movements met with his, which aided in driving his mind away from those who watched. He was too busy immersing himself in her chiming laughter as he spun her. The way her fringed bangs moved from her warm face.

“I liked your welcome speech,” he avoided looking at her lips. Her eyes were no better.

“I wanted to make it serviceable and short. I don’t believe anyone would have appreciated a lecture tonight,” he wondered if speaking helped.

She was beautiful. She held that shine that he had seen so many times with confusion, and all at once the sideways puzzle straighted itself. Affection. An odd word and feeling that rang in his mind. The uneasy realness of the word was the vast unknown of where her affections fell compared to his own.

“Is that Seteth?”

“What, naw, the man don’t—It is!”

“I must be drunk…Or he’s drunk—or we’re both drunk.”

He hadn’t realized that the number of onlookers had grown and grew in disbelief at the sight. At this point, he should have slowed down and returned to the background. But it would have meant the end of the familiarity of days before _Seteth_ and paradoxically the end of right now.

They were pulled apart all too soon. “Mind if I cut in?” Catherine’s footwork had more bounce to her and the slight adjustment to meet with her only fueled her and those around him. Even the music was given a further burst of energy and life. 

In a couple of turns, he was pulled away again by Leonie.

Then it was Ingrid’s light steps.

After her turn, he needed to dance with Flayn next. In different times he would have already taught her how to dance. He simplified the steps and counted for her as she kept her eyes to their feet. He kept her up as she tripped on a misplaced step on his boot, “that’s alright, try again,” he said softly. Her earnest expression made him glow with overflowing delight. It was only outmatched when he twirled her.

Flayn slowed to shake off the droop in her eyes. “Brother, I am going to ask Catherine if she could walk me to my room to rest,” she walked over to the blonde knight.

“Are you certain? We can finish here.”

“Relax, I’ve got her,” Catherine assured him, “it’s not every day that you get a chance to live a little.”

He noted one of the elders was requesting a dance, “alright, one more dance and I’ll be right over.”

“Don’t make it too quick,” she teased.

**…**

How many songs did Hilda dance to? She couldn’t say. Though she had other dance partners, her gaze kept returning to him. He was surprisingly popular for the night, but with the way he’d open the idea for another round regardless of skill level or age, he was more magnetic than he gave himself credit for. 

“See, Marianne? Who says your dancing class doesn’t come in handy,” Hilda said as the two women danced.

Marianne gave a nod as she modestly kept in step, “…the practice is good.”

Annette yawned as she teetered over to them, “okay that’s enough dancing for me.” She looked over to Hilda, “who would’ve thought Seteth could dance?”

“There was a hunch,” she admitted.

“You’re crazy, you know that?”

She sucked up all the air to her chest, “I know, and I’m going to do something even crazier,” she told them.

Annette hugged Marianne’s arm, “good luck~!”

That was the last teeny boost she needed. She maneuvered from the remaining crowd and dismissed any distractions. When Seteth noted her with an opening for another dance with that sincere smile of his, the rush of excitement jumped to her head. There was no way she was going to turn down his offer. Since the first time he held her hand those weeks ago, the sensation of comfort had yet to weaken. It only buried her deeper into what she felt for him. She didn’t have to think about adjusting or who was around them; she had the best dance partner a girl could ever ask for.

“You have great footwork,” she complimented.

He said amused, “you’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Well, you’re thinking about something,” he said.

“About escaping,” it was as if the sniper bow in her was fired. She took his hand and stole him away from the busy crowd.

**…**

They didn’t stop for anyone or anything until they reached the entrance of the academy. The gatekeepers had been long switched out for the night. The party still went on behind them. There was a mix of old and new faces, but she doubted anyone could blame everyone here for soaking in the most fun they’ve had since the ball before the Empire’s invasion.

Seteth leaned on the far end of the short stone wall that connected the top of the stairs to the ground “Pull me in to dance, then pull me out,” he shook his head with a laugh, “I never seem to have a slow moment with you.”

Her heart skipped 27 beats. His laugh wasn’t a strong, loud laugh. It was like a chime that had few chances to be used, and even less had heard. He was so handsome. The moonlight and party lights hit each feature right. From the strong jaw, the slight curvature of his nose, and that damn smile. To think if the professor wasn’t there at the bridge, she might have not gotten the chance to experience this with him. To have danced. To have heard him laugh. This had yet to be over still, but she realized that there was something that she feared far more than rejection. The loss of the chance for rejection. Seteth was strong, smart, and skilled, but things happen in this insane world. She wasn’t going to let some stupid dictator stall her, and sometimes you have to push the goddess to hurry up a smidge.

“Seteth?”

He turned to her, “yes?”

She inched her face and placed a soft peck on his lips. No room for an escape route. No room for misunderstanding. Every part of her pulsed with tension in that long two seconds. She pulled away slowly, the quiet smack echoed to her ears. Her heart hitched to her throat as he closed that tiny gap to return the kiss. There wasn’t a feeling of reluctance as he pressed his lips against hers, there was only the strong want. Want for her. Her legs were weak, and she clung to his broad shoulders as she deepened the kiss. She wanted nothing more than to show that her desire met with his. His heartbeat thumped fast like her own as she pressed herself to him. Those strong hands supporting her as he held on to her bareback; thumbs pressing on her shoulder blades. Her mind hazed as she craved more of his touch, a symptom of holding everything back for only chaste contact while she continued to fall harder?

Her hand traveled to his face, in her desire to feel more of his warmth. Her fingers brushed his jaw and it was like so many pitiful dreams before as he broke off the kiss. The weight of his hands left her and he stepped back. _“No, no, no,”_ he muttered to himself as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

She still felt dazed as she walked closer and reached for him, “Seteth…”

His hand stopped her, “please, don’t.” His hand then moved to his face with a deep sigh, “I am so sorry, that was wildly inappropriate.”

She prayed that it was simply nerves, “there isn’t anything to apologize over…”

“This was my fault, I was blind and allowed for this to go too far,” he turned to look beyond the boxes and barrels that huddled near the lake.

He remained silent. She circled him to get some reading of him. Yet, his face gave nothing beyond deep pondering. She searched for words in her jittered head. Her eyes instantly followed his hands as they carefully moved from his chin to one holding his wrist behind him.

“You have completed your exams, so there is no longer a need for me to tutor you. The book will also be placed on a temporary hiatus.”

The jumble in her head shut off. Everything shut off. It was all a puddle that drained to her feet. “Y-you can’t do that!”

“I’m sorry, I need the space to think clearly.”

“About what? Is it a crime for two people to care about each other?”

“It isn’t that simple.”

“Why? What’s not simple about it?”

He spoke slow as he picked his words, “it goes beyond what either of us wants. I know it isn’t what you want to hear. I know it barely even qualifies as an answer.” He finally moved his gaze away from beyond the lake to her, “please, allow me this time. Or don’t and move on from me.”

She swallowed each nerve in her body, “tell me. Was this real? Did you mean everything you said to me? The time we’ve spent together did it mean anything to you?”

“Yes, all of it. Yes,” he said without hesitation.

“What do you want from me? Money? A crest? A relic? A pretty face to look at?”

“I don’t want any of those things from you,” he didn’t appear to waver here either.

Hilda adjusted her bangs as her leg bounced. Her brain called her stupid and told her to cut her losses. Her heart reminded her of all of the wonderful things and this wasn't made up. Her gut wasn’t much help either as it was a mix of mush from both warring factions. Her throat was so tight that she couldn’t prevent the stupid crack, “how long? I don’t have months or a year to be strung along.”

“No, I rather you did not waste unnecessary time on myself,” he looked to his boots for a moment before looking back at her, “no longer than three weeks from tonight. I will aim for less, but that will be the maximum and you will have your answer.”

“No vague non-answers?”

“None.”

After a solid minute of the thumps in her head. She slowly nodded with a soft, “okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That awkward moment when you want to throw something at the author and you're the author.
> 
> This wasn't an easy chapter to write, no matter how long I stared at it and willed it to write itself, because gosh dang it. No matter how long I've been anticipating this chapter and getting hyped, I still wasn't really ready.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly good news.

“Hey Hilda, don’t tell me you’re asleep already,” Claude laughed to himself as he opened her door, “the party’s not over yet…” His voice transitioned to a stop.

There she laid in her full get up, her face sunk ear-deep in her pillow. Tonight was the night. The sight as pitiful as he expected for the past weeks.

He quietly exhaled as he walked over to her. Sucks that she was upset, but this was a better result. Claude picked up one of her ankles and started unzipping one of her long boots, “I don’t know how you can lay with these on,” he pulled one off and began on the other. “Y’know you should have seen the mob of exes that were chasing Sylvain, the guy knows how make time for what he likes, eh? You’d think these women wouldn’t be surprised.”

She didn’t respond.

After he tossed the other boot to its pair, he stroked her back, “we’ve gotta get that make-up washed off.”

She buried herself deeper into her pillow.

“Do you really wanna sleep in your night dress? Holst spent a pretty bit of gold on that birthday present, and I’m not going to hear the end of it if it gets messed up.”

“Who cares I messed up everything else anyways,” she uttered.

“What? Did you give the Empire an invitation and the keys to the front gates?”

“No,” she stayed in her pillow.

He shrugged, “then all is not lost, right? Besides, remember what Flayn said, you’re not much of his type? So what if he doesn’t like you?”

Hilda finally poked out her smeared face, “But he does and we were having a great time!”

Claude scrunched his face, “then why are you...?”

“And then I had to ruin all of it by kissing him...”

 _Why_? Whatever, it was a small smooch.

“It was the best minute of the entire night!”

Why in all that is good did he need this mental image after a however many hour trip? “Should I get one of the girls in here? I don’t think I’m qualified for this job anymore.” He didn’t know who to call up since it appeared as the other women were as unlucky or dry in their romantic pursuits...if there was one to think of.

“But he broke it off and said he had to _think_ about it,” she went back to smothering herself in the pillow with a new sob.

Did this mean this wasn’t over? He held it all back to not make the loudest groan. The only positive out of this was that Seteth was overthinking himself to a cliff. Certainly, he wouldn’t jeopardize the act and his spot in the church for _feelings_. “C’mon Hil, get that make-up off at least,” he gave her another pat.

“Later,” she mumbled. Back to where she started.

Claude sighed, “alright, well I should be getting ready for bed anyway. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Hilda.”

“G’night.”

**…**

The first thing he did was peer into Flayn’s room, only long enough to see her curls scattered every which way while she slept soundly. He must apologize in the morning. Had he not allowed himself to be swept away in the festivities, he wouldn’t have found himself in such a situation.

Seteth closed the door and made a stop at his room. He emptied his pockets and unbuttoned his coat. He slid off his boots and placed them to the right of the wooden dresser. His golden circlet lightly clattered as it was set on top of the dresser. He stepped out of the room and headed to the end of the hall that led to a private bathroom where he prepared the shower.  
All else automatic as he held in the dam of thoughts for a while longer. He discarded the used clothes into the hamper. The calm, warm shower that sprinkled on his face only added to the weight of his mind.

Why didn’t he say no? It was seamless when it came to other women. Inconvenienced no one. He was merely intoxicated with the party, dancing, and heat of it all. These flubs happened to others. He recounted times where in other parties, two people felt a temporary spark and woke up the next day with cleared minds and awkwardly glanced anytime the two were in the same room. He spent more time with Hilda than before. The consistent proximity may have affected him. He wasn’t above experiencing lust. Shameful. The sensation of her lips on his tingled on his mouth. The imprint of her well-developed body pushed on him. Exceedingly shameful.

He turned the water hotter before he lathered the shampoo through his hair.

What of her? What on earth aimed her interest to him? In their early days, she spent the majority of that time avoiding him. Nothing unusual there. Where was the shift? Obviously sometime before their collaboration began. The book. What if he ruined that because of this misstep? What if he ruined their relationship entirely?

He should have left with Flayn. He would have danced with her. Had a wonderful time and parted many times happier than they did. He would have seen her tomorrow and all would be well.

Whatever he wished for, things couldn’t go back to what they were before this night. Not for himself, who knew what her feelings encompassed. Yes, she could have some form of affection for him. The reality was that it could be fleeting or surface level. She could move on and go back to living as usual. Another hand waited right after his.

He shut off the water and reached for a pale blue towel.

 _Was it a crime for two people to care for each other?_ Did she to such an extent? She hardly knew him. Though, leave it to someone as vibrant as Hilda to make herself known now of all times. They’re in the middle of a war and Rhea was out there alone with only the goddess knows. What kind of man would he be? Selfishly perusing a woman he should not have. This only led to dangerous questions. Hilda was not foolish, and with his resolve weakened. He couldn’t prevent every leak. If she glimpsed centimeters below the surface, she could infer a portion of the depth of his burdens. She’d leave then, having understood that such declarations were unfounded. She may have all of the affection and care for Seteth, said nothing that she held the same for the whole of him.

He covered himself with his bathrobe before he left the bathroom. He entered the bedroom and went back to the dresser to dress for bed. He debated going for a nighttime stroll, but he didn’t wish to come across anyone. He needed sleep. The workload was not going to pause itself for his private matters and he wanted to prevent repeating the mistakes he made in the previous battle.

* * *

There was a knock on Claude’s door. He watched his foot placement and avoided toppling one of his stacks of books. With another, he nearly stepped on one of the scattered texts. Thankfully, he didn’t, that crusty book was several times older than himself and the Alliance librarians wouldn’t be happy. “Coming,” he jumped into some pants. He snatched the shirt draped over his desk chair and breathed into it, should work for one or two more uses. He unlocked the door, “report?”

“I apologize for the intrusion, Master Claude,” the armored soldier greeted with a bow, “Judith has requested an audience with you, sir.”

“Judith?” She should be over at the bridge, she wouldn’t have left her position under normal circumstances, “Tell her to meet with me at the monastery, please also invite teach and Lorenz for me.”

“I’ll also alert Seteth—”

He shook his hand. “That won’t be necessary. He’ll be filled in after, the guy has a booked schedule no doubt,” Claude said, “I’ll be meeting up with them in less than half an hour.”

The soldier bowed again, “yes, sir.”

**…**

Claude entered into Hilda’s room, optimistic that she changed out of the dress into actual sleeping clothes and managed to wash off her face. “Wake up, Hil, we’ve got a meeting,” he shook her shoulder.

She moved herself to the other side to face the wall, a low sound came from her throat.

“Judith’s here. Something may be up,” he leaned on her dresser.

“Pass,” she dug in her bed further.

“Hilda,” he repeated.

“ _Pass_. You’re the boss, not me. Tell me what you decide to do after I wake up.”

What a mess. Whatever he’ll cut her some slack for today. “Suit yourself,” he fixed his posture, “I’ll drop by later, alright?”

“Mmm.”

  
…

This early in the monastery, the morning wave of worshipers had another hour before the main church gates opened for everyone. The head bishops and priests were outside doing their ritual of circling the walls of Gerrag Mach, and prayed for continued protection from the goddess. If such things worked, they would have no use for a personal army.

Judith and the others waited for him at the front of the monastery by the rubble that remained. Judith and Lorenz conversed while Byleth listened.

“I say that everything went as well as it could have gone,” Claude walked into the group, “each lord agreed to provide us with additional soldiers and supplies.”

Judith rose her chin, “when I heard that you were three weeks ahead of schedule, I almost couldn’t believe it. I’m impressed that you managed to get those scattered nobles to agree to help us. I figured they’d argue over how much support each should provide. That tended to be how it always went.”

“Well, Count Gloucester being the first to take the initiative helped. Lorenz must have had a smooth talk with him before I had a chance to speak more with him.”

Lorenz shook his head, “I simply explained the situation, my father agreed to follow your lead after.” He pointed to Byleth, “He told me it was because you had the professor there to represent Lady Rhea. My father is a pious man within the church of Serios.”

Claude chuckled, “I’m not surprised. If it was simply my charm, I would’ve had all of those lords agreeing with me years ago.” He faced Byleth, “Thanks for that. I hope you don’t feel like I used you...because I sort of used you,” he admitted.

“Don’t mention it,” Byleth said simply.

Never a grudge to be had and he could work the way he worked best without much push back, “I appreciate it. No time to be picky over our methods, right?” It wasn’t often that they were together without Seteth stalking nearby, certainly not in these types of meetings either, “be honest, Teach. You’re having a hard time adjusting to this new role, huh?” He went on, “you were never a follower to begin with, now you find yourself representing the church. I realize that you might feel guilty deceiving the believers like this to lean to our cause.”

Byleth didn’t reply.

“But don’t forget, this is exactly what the archbishop wanted, and she’s the highest authority of the church, right? Besides, as the wielder of the Sword of the Creator, you’re undeniably special. So be more confident in yourself and use that position to the fullest,” soon it’ll be Byleth making the rules here and who better to work with within the church?

Shamir interjected the chat, “I have news. Our enemy is gathering soldiers at Fort Merceus. The army is immense, it’s likely they’re headed by a renowned general. Or perhaps...”

“Edelgard,” Byleth finished her thought.

Claude’s grin grew, “well now, that would be interesting. If we can take down the Emperor, the Empire will collapse.” He had all that he needed, a packed army, the support of the lords, the Sword of the Creator by his side, and now the arrogant Emperor was going to land right on his lap. Followed thereafter by Rhea once they waltz into Embarr.

“There’s something else,” Judith reminded him of her update, “An unidentified army approached the Great Bridge of Myrddin. They passed through Daphnel and Gloucester territories from the northwest with incredible speed.”

Hidden reinforcements maybe? A recreation of what they did over at the Valley of Torment?

Judith continued, “they’re raising the banner of House Blaiddyd. They may be remnants of the Faerghus royal family. From what we could tell, they posed no threat to the citizens of the Alliance, so we refrained from engaging them.”

Claude held his head as he worked the image in his mind, “maybe they hope to fight against the Empire to avenge their fallen prince. And the status of the bridge itself?”

“We wouldn’t let them pass without receiving envoys first. We thought they may try to force their way through. We considered firing warning arrows, but they left immediately, heading east.”

“Are they intending to use one of the bridges in Ordelia territory?”

“Most likely. But the Imperial army controls those bridges.” Judith rested her hand on her hip, “I can’t imagine what they intend to do in the Empire, even if they do breakthrough...”

He knew of this segment of the crumbling Faerghus Dukedom, led by the Faldarius and Gautier Houses. Since Edelgard coordinated Dimitri’s execution a short time after the disappearance—now known capture—of Rhea, the lords most loyal to the Faerghus Kingdom fought defensively to protect what little territories to keep the Empire from swallowing the country whole. It’s either luck that they’ve gathered enough troops to confront the Empire, or this was them going out in a final blaze of glory. Both could be true since Edelgard may join in the front lines and was preparing for it. The spirits must be smiling over him because this was a world of opportunity. The Faerghus Kingdom was even more devout than the Alliance if he remembered correctly, maybe once they see teach with the sword and after some words, they would ally with them and boom. War is over. If not they could take advantage of the red and blue soldiers killing each other, while they focused their efforts on the grand prize.

“I’m reluctant to ease up on our surveillance but it would be difficult to track them down there...” he said with his list of personal spies produced in his mind. “For now, let’s assume they’re just troops belonging to the old Kingdom. In any case, we should proceed with caution.” He went back and spotlighted on the situation, “soon, we’ll be Empire territory ourselves. If our enemies are going to intercept us with an attack. It’ll probably be at Gronder Field. Fitting that it was the site of the Battle of the Eagle and Lion five years ago.”

Judith side-eyed him amused, “watch it, Claude. We still need to figure out what we’re going up against.”

Claude waved it away, “we’ve gotten this far without much of a hitch, right? Don’t forget that the Battle of the Eagle and Lion ended the war between the Empire and Faerghus centuries ago. We have a good chance to end our war there too.” He asked Lorenz and Byleth, “do I hear a nay?”

Lorenz looked over at Byleth and Claude, “hmm. It would do us well to not belabor this war any longer than we need to, and I have to admit your track record has yielded results.”

“Do my ears deceive me or are you complimenting me now, Lorenz?” Claude winked, “you’re making me blush.”

Lorenz shook his head with a scoff, “do not allow it to get to your head, Claude. I am merely taking notice of what I have seen in front of me.”

“Shouldn’t we consult with Seteth and the knights before solidifying our next move?” Byleth coolly commented.

Shamir nodded, “right, I don’t understand why he wasn’t called here either. At the very least to save repeating myself, but I’ll relay the information to him. That all that needs to be said for now?”

“Yes, you’re free to go. Thank you, Shamir,” Claude released her. He waited until she was gone. There was more to be done before he could cut Seteth from the conversation. He rested a hand on Byleth’s shoulder, “what were we talking about minutes ago? You’ve gotta start seeing yourself as a leader around here, besides the sooner the Empire topples, the sooner we can rescue Rhea. I’m positive Seteth can’t say no to that, right?”

Byleth lowered his head in thought. Claude knew that Byleth wanted answers from Rhea about as much as he did. Understandably more so since she carried the history kept from him since birth. He gave a single nod.

“Great, so it’s decided. If Edelgard wants a fight, we’ll be there to stop her. We don’t have much time, so it’s best to start preparing immediately.”

**…**

Seteth fixated at a map of Fodlan. It went better than his late night attempt to burn holes into the ceiling with his eyes alone. Compared to that, work was a sanctuary for his active mind.

They acquired the bridge and an impressive army, they were primed to push forward into Empire territories. The next objective should be a stronghold within the Empire, between the bridge and Embarr.

“Seteth, I have an update about the Empire’s movements,” Shamir stood at the office entrance.

He got on his feet and laid the map flat on his desk, “excellent, would you prefer to take a seat?”

She rejected the offer, “our enemy is gathering troops at Fort Merceus, there’s good reason to believe that Edelgard is heading this army for an offensive attack.”

He skimmed the map, a plan to reclaim the Great Bridge? Without the bridge, there was insufficient access to the Leister Alliance and they'd be pressed to cross the mountain ranges to reach Gerrag Mach. It would be necessary to send a couple of factions to strengthen the power of the solders already positioned there. But why would Edelgard personally lead this army? Was she planning for a successive attack? The Great Bridge and Gerrag Mach right after? Seteth didn’t doubt that these serial losses to the Empire damaged the young ruler’s ego. She lost several top soldiers by their hand and most importantly the strides to dominate the Leister Alliance. “I see.”

“There’s more,” Shamir said, “Judith came to give her news from the bridge.”

“Judith’s here? I will have one of the soldiers retrieve Claude and the professor—“

She stopped him mid-step, “they already met with her. Lorenz was there too.”

Seteth masked his confusion, “did they? Well, what was it that Judith had to report?”

“There was another army spotted near the Great Bridge. She said that they’re identifying themselves under a Kingdom flag marked with the Blaiddyd House, it appears that they were looking to cross into the Empire. They headed east, likely through the Ordelia territory to enter that way.”

Between Fort Merceus and the Great Bridge was Gronder Field, and if the Kingdom’s men broke through from the east, they may cross the Emperor somewhere along there. They may be unable to advance to the Empire while these two groups were mobile. “Did she say anything about this group being hostile?”

“She wasn’t sure, they were quick to avoid a skirmish at least.”

“Anything else?”

“Claude seems keen on taking on the Emperor. Other than that, no.”

Seteth took in the thought, “I understand the temptation but that idea will need to be shelved at the moment.” They lacked the information to determine if this militia from Faerghus were open to allying with them or if it was best to wait for their inevitable clash to pass. Their army had the potential to make use of their conflict, outside of slowing down the Imperial troops’ path. Either way, it was too soon to risk engaging two other armies head-on if this group wasn’t willing to cooperate. It was urgent to discuss it with Claude and Byleth further, “I will need Aber and Devit retrieved to my office within the next hour at the latest. Can you safely reenter the Empire and get close enough to gather more data?”

“No problem. What do you need?”

“Numbers—how many in total, if possible, how many remaining at Fort Merceus and how many being prepared for deployment— the general make-up of the types of soldiers being brought, and an absolute that Edelgard plans to join the front lines,” the earlier they could see what was coming, the earlier they could prepare for their next course of action.

“Understood,” she gave a nod before leaving his office.

Seteth tapped on his desk, “the Blaiddyd House.”

…  
  


  
Claude skipped a step up the dorm building stairs. His smile shrunk as he came closer to Hilda’s door. She had to be up by now, though still moping. He could take a stroll somewhere, check the greenhouse, grab a snack...and end up back here two minutes later.

He didn’t even have to reach for the knob, it turned and Hilda stepped out. She caught herself mid-way and kept the door from smacking his head, “oops! Are you okay?”

“Almost got my nose ruined, but you stopped right on time,” he said, “how are you feelin’, Hil?”

She looked up at him from her bangs as she held onto the knob, she wasn’t made-up as usual. Enough to pass her threshold of ‘what she’d have to wear before leaving her room.’ Her dress was also on the more comfortable, toss-on variety. Out of her whole get up, she may have spent the most time on her hair.

“Mm, right,” he scratched his cheek, “dumb question.”

Hilda stepped from the entryway and closed the door, “it’s not dumb at all. I’m sorry for being difficult, this morning and last night.” She gave him a tight hug, “do you forgive me, Claude?”

“ _Just_ this morning and last night?”

“Okay, okay, a lot of the time.”

He hugged her back, “yeah, I forgive ya.” Though the apology could've been more comforting if Seteth wasn’t clinging around in the background like a leech. He squeezed her, “c’mon, let’s get something while I catch you up. I’m starving.”

They walked to, then down the closest set of stairs.

“You should have seen the roads coming back from Deirdru, there were a couple of bouts with leftover Imperial troops on our way there, but back? Smooth as a river. I wish I could have shown teach more of Leister, but we’re not on vacation,” Claude told her, “too bad since the weather has been great for it.”

“Master Claude, I was told you may be around here,” a yellow knight approached them.

Three important messages before the morning’s even through, “yes?”

“There was a mount and a garment sent for you, Master Claude,” she said, “they are being held for you by the stables, sir.”

He moved his eyes to Hilda and she did the same. Curiosity always bested hunger, “sounds great, lead the way.”

  
…

She was a beaut. The albino wyvern’s folded wings lifted from the loose ground of the stables as the small group came near. Her pink eyes glared at them and she sighed a cautionary hiss. The wyvern lord that kept watch calmed her, “shhh, you’re alright. She’s kinda wary from the ride over.” The man handed Claude a letter, “here, this came with the wyvern.”

Claude didn’t need to read the message or even look into the other half sent to him, he knew exactly what this was from the wyvern.

  
_You earned it, kiddo.  
-Nardel _   
  


Sure enough, Nader knew that too. That goof.

“You’re going to strain your face if you smile any wider,” Hilda said with a grin.

He couldn’t stop, “I always told myself I wasn’t going to let myself mush. Guess I forgot once I saw her. I must’ve thought...” He cut himself off and stepped forward, “I gotta have a better look at her.”

Claude outstretched his hand to the large wyvern. Albino wyvern were a rarity and set aside for the Almyran ruling members only. When a new hatchling was discovered, they were reared in the Almyran kingdom. So once the heir was prepared to take on their title as Barbarossa, the adult wyvern had been exposed to the royal family, and bonded quicker. She seen him before, was aware of his scent. He wasn’t a complete stranger. While hesitant, she allowed her neck to be touched, “there we go. Welcome to the team, Ishani.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll 100% blame summer school for the time on this one. I spent the last three weeks taking 6 online tests and I don't know how I did it, but I did. I'll be done with my classes in early September and take another test a few days after. So there'll likely be some slow down there too. Other than that, this was fortunately a really easy chapter to write. Give it, some of it is a mix of scenes I've been thinking about for a whiles and happenings cropping up. Regardless of how quick this was to write, I won't lie that this was my more bloodier of chapters. I always notice when I get through a chapter stupid fast, I have a ton more to edit and fix. 
> 
> Anyways, as usual, I drew a little celebratory piece for the end of "Part 1" (Phase 1?). https://i.redd.it/lgqqodmzkuc51.png  
> Unfortunately, I didn't have the time to draw anything to celebrate Three Houses' anniversary. Crazy how it's already been a year since the game was released. It was my second Fire Emblem game after Echoes, and one of two games that I bought with my Switch the weekend it first came out. Still remember several all nighters as I played through Azure Moon. Still remember hardcore judging Seteth, waiting for him to turn, and being impressed that A. he didn't and B. he was a rockstar of a unit even without heavy focus. It has been through sequential playthroughs of playing that Seteth went from the near bottom, to "okay he's cool" after Azure Moon, to top 3 Three Houses characters, to top 5 all time favorite characters, to a comfortable up there. Still may feel a bit which ways to label him my official favorite character of all time, because my number 1 has been #1 for so long (although, Seteth may end up beating out for the simple fact that said #1 has disclaimers all over him, as in, old Anime version only. Manga and new anime version is mediocre, where as Seteth is simply the whole of him. Unless my /other/ curse follows me and his character somehow ruined in a future installment, be it a DLC or sequel. But considering Fire Emblem games are mostly stand-alone and there hasn't been any news for DLC, I'm optimistic). Then again, I love almost all of Three Houses' Characters, and even the most insufferable such as Edelgard is an interesting character in her own right. I've played several playthroughs and I can still see myself playing more.
> 
> As a side tangent, I enjoy the mental image of Seteth in comfy pajamas (cuz what if Flayn calls him in the night and he needs to run out of bed?), while Claude opts to sleep in his boxers cuz he gets hot too easily hahaha. 
> 
> Another note I wanted to add is a note I wanted to add onto Chapter 11, but it's a minor so I felt it could wait. I've added few Christian songs to the playlist. It would have been lacking without it because Seteth's spirituality is a huge part of his character, and the CoS takes inspiration from the Christian faith. The two are an unobtrusive percentage of the playlist and one you wouldn't even know unless you knew the group. I think the playlist will mostly stabilize with that since I use the playlist as the backdrop to my writing time. 
> 
> Uber happy that y'all have stuck around and saw me through part 1 and excited for what's going to happen in part 2. It won't be as long as part 1, but there are a lot of scenes I'm excited for. As always, I love all of your feedback! 0w0/


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That one annoying key.

Seteth sat on the pew. The organ was the backdrop to the hushed whispers of prayer which surrounded him. Slow and rehearsed, the large instrument heavily chugged its melody as it made do with several damaged pipes.

In days like these, he wished that his brothers were present. He knew where to seek them out, though the trips would be laborious for only himself and irresponsible for multiple reasons.

Would his brothers be much help to him either? Seteth’s scowl became more dower when he thought of what his eldest brother might think. His head snapped off if he brought the idea of harboring these questions towards a decendant of one of the elites, and Seteth couldn’t fault a probable lapse of pain-induced rage. The other, too far stunted from social interactions that he wouldn’t have the insight to provide much, any little he might have would be soiled by terror anyways.

“Seteth?” One of the bishops, asked, “is there something the matter?”

“Do I appear so?”

The older man hesitated, “It’s simply unusual for you to be seated here by yourself outside of morning prayer,” He sat down beside him.

Seteth stayed quiet considering there wasn’t a proper offer to reject.

The bishop said, “What has the goddess been speaking into you?”

His spirit spoke to him from different directions about separate but connected circumstances all at once. And with his self-identified misgivings, “I’m not sure.”

“You should not allow yourself to deafen to the goddess’ voice. After all, it is written: _the holy walk in certainty through the goddess’ will,_ ” the bishop said. “The central church and the Knights of Serios depend on your wisdom to lead us while the archbishop remains absent. Lady Rhea and every archbishop before her stood tall by the guidance of the goddess and until the professor takes his place, you must as well.”

She would have done well to not have been inflexible in what she believed to be Mother’s desires. The situation wouldn’t have gotten to such extremes. He could argue the point, but it diluted the conversation into a space he was currently uninterested in. As well as reminded him of other frustrations that stayed until he saw Rhea again.

Seteth listened to the music. He envisioned the worn hands of the priestess and guessed what keys were struck by ear. From what he remembered, four keys were missing. He couldn’t recall which ones they were. Three on the swell manual. One on the great manual. There was a small portion of the melody loop that he looked forward to in the past and as it built up to said part, the notes were now a barely passable replacement.

“What is going through your mind right now?”

“How long will it be until we can get the organ fixed,” he said.

“The...organ? I am sure we can locate an organ technician, shall I send a messenger to some of the nearby villages for a recommendation?”

Seteth sighed, “no, that’s not a priority.” He pulled himself up from the pew and gave a parting nod to the man, “I must return to work. Thank you for allowing me your time.” After a couple of side steps, he turned around and headed for the entrance gates.

  
  


**…**

  
  


Where was she? Not in her room. Not in the garden. He glanced over at the dining hall. Nope, not there either.

“Ah, Claude. Good day.”

_Damn it._

“I tried to get a hold of you yesterday,” Seteth said as he approached him.

Claude put on his face, “sorry about that, I must have lost track of time. The first week is done and I’m already so busy.”

“I was thinking the exact thing. Time will grow less and less expendable, which is why I found it counterproductive to not have been there during the discussion of Judith's updates as soon as they came.”

Not even an ease in about the weather. “it was such short notice and I knew how busy you can get in the morning,” he tried to avoid speaking any sweeter to keep his tone away from sarcasm.

“You and Byleth have my full permission to pull me from anything that I’m doing. Specifically when it comes to matters dealing with the war and our plans going forward,” he said as an inherent given. “Moving from that, I have sent some scouts to investigate the reports—“

“And I’m learning of this _now?”_ These scouts could completely give away the spies he sent. More pairs of eyes meant more risk of being outed. Added with the fact that neither knew that they were working for the same army.

“Again, I attempted to get a hold of you before I finalized the order. I was only able to reach Byleth and he did not object. This was a time-sensitive matter and I needed to act quickly before the lead went cold. I would have preferred to send them sooner with you there, but there were already too many delays by that point.”

Of course, Byleth wasn’t going to say ‘no,’ and Seteth knew it. And what of him? Did he believe that he didn’t think that far ahead? “Right. I guess it won’t do us any good if we didn’t at least have a grip on what’s going on around us,” he nodded.

“I’m glad we can come to the same understanding without much trouble,” he sure didn’t look it. “We will have enough bunk beds for the rest of the aid by the end of Tuesday, a week before their arrival. Everything should be prepared by the time of our next major meeting. If all goes well, the scouts would also have adequately updated us by then,” Seteth continued.

“How was it?”

“Pardon?”

Claude moved into his foot with a step away. “Oh ignore me, simply never knew someone in your position was such a heartbreaker,” he shrugged while he scolded himself for an unprofessional _slip,_ “Makes one wonder what other sides you’re hiding,” he speculated to himself. A little reminder to get the gears oiled up and whirling, hopefully speeding up the process. It shut up the droning and gave him an easy exit, at least. “I must get back to the busyness, you get it I’m sure.”

Seteth’s shadow blocked his path, “our business does not involve you.”

“That’s pretty off to say considering who you’re talking to,” he kept his stance planted as he continued to play it light, “besides, it’s only some cheap banter between men. No need to turn on the death glares.”

“I have no use for ‘cheap banter’ between you nor anyone else about this. So please keep to yourself.” Seteth lingered for a second longer before walking past Claude, “I will alert you once I receive the first reports from the scouts.”

“I really don’t get your taste in men, Hil.”

  
  


**…**

  
  


Hilda gripped the shaft of Ukonvasara as she eyeballed her next wooden target. She was multiple meters away from the usual spot for cutting timber and wanted to practice on already broken trees. The section of wood that barely clung onto the bark trembled as she struck one of its sturdier sides. Earlier she attempted the same with one of the not-broken trees, but after the third whack, that poor tree looked like it was going to topple down. Then she’d be stuck with the hassle of chopping it into smaller sections. With these trees, she could look like she helped a bit since they were coming down anyway.

The ax of Ukonvasara wasn’t as heavy as the first time she held it. Particularly because she was expecting the heaviness. Didn’t mean that she could put off getting used to wielding the weapon. Not if she was going to use it while riding on a wyvern. She knew of over-excited ax-wielders who dislocated or even broke something for not handling a heavier ax right. She also wasn’t Holst who could pick it up and start swinging it around like an expert.

“Look whose bein’ a hard-working soldier,” Claude came from behind while she was in mid-swing. She improperly loosened her grip and did the right thing in letting the ax fly into the tree. “Ouch, glad I was coming from this way and not the other. Should’ve announced myself better,” he stared at the ax that clung firmly onto the tree from the blade.

“Uh, _yeah_ ,” she rested one of her gloved hands on her hips. Her hand fell back to her side as she went over to yank the ax out of the trunk.

“You know that your fancy ax is glowing?” He pointed to the blue-white gleam that appeared when she firmly held the ax, “is that another gift from Holst or Pops? Or did you complain to them that your relic wasn’t pretty enough, and they sent you this one instead,” he teased.

She forgot that she hadn’t gotten the chance to show him, due to the timing of when she received it and how Claude left right after their previous battle. “Seteth gave it to me before we left for the Great Bridge...”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “ _ah_. So does this one sound weird too?”

She examined the blade that faced upwards, “actually no, but it’s still weird though. In the other spectrum kinda weird. I’ve been swinging this ax for longer than I think I could, but I’m not tired out at all. I’m thinking Saint Macuil put a spell on this or something after he forged it. Like, watch.”

Hilda gave herself space away from Claude before taking a more active stance with the ax of Ukonvasara. She swung at the forest air with control and the ax reacted with the force of each swing, producing a snowy, shimmering tail that traveled behind. After a few swings, she put the ax back into a resting position and turned to him.

“You’re probably right about implanting some sort of spell there. This one also looks like it fits the bill for a ‘holy weapon’ than the relics. At least, I’ve never seen white glitter trails instilling inherent evil vibes. Until you remember that you’re still hacking people with it. So, there were two groups of holy weapons being made around the same time?” He stretched his back, “that knocks down one hypothesis in place of another, I suppose. I was thinking that Indech was the one that was the weapon mastermind after reading up on the books from Dierdru’s library. Then again, Macuil and Indech could have different styles in weapon creation. But _this_ different?”

Hilda shrugged, “different cultures have different styles and materials, I guess. Fóldan wasn’t officially a thing until after the Church of Serios.”

He monitored the forest, “that’s what I can’t stand about this place. More questions within questions. Makes me appreciate the utter simplicity of home.”

“Speaking of _home_ , what now? You’re going to be the leader of two countries?”

“Mm, I don’t know if it’d be the favorable move to annex Fódlan, I can already hear the Alliance nobles losing their minds and throwing me out. And that’s one group of nobles. Besides, I still have to finish the war here. If nothing else, it’s been fun to know that my half-brothers are all squirming that the one with the biggest muscles isn’t becoming king,” he said. “If all goes according to plan, we’ll dissolve the Empire and have Rhea back by the end of the month. We’ll smooth out the other details afterward.”

“Do you think it’d work just like that?”

Claude mulled it over for a moment, “I don’t believe in this world or the next that Hubert would let her go alone, and he’d be the closest thing to a backup. Which would be giving Hubert more credit than he deserves. She hadn’t produced an heir for the Empire to project onto and keep some amount of fight after her death. Heck, if she thought far enough, she would have gotten married for the sake of having a fail-safe family to assume control if anything happened. Because if I know anything about nobles, they’ll flip-flop to whatever winning side as long as they get to keep their comforts.” He crossed his arms, “so yeah, I think we’ll have little trouble after we take out the Emperor and her yes-man.”

Hearing it for the second time in two days was crazy to her. Last year had been as stagnant as the previous three, now they were moving like a drawn arrow. Sure, she wasn’t dumb enough to think that everything would be back to normal afterward, but the Empire wouldn’t be stalking around anymore. “Good, cuz I’m getting tired out from all of this war stuff. The sooner we get them out of power the better it is for everybody.”

  
  


**...**

  
  


At the knights' hall, Seteth stood in front of the fireplace with his small notebook. His office was too cramped and after completing his main tasks for the day, all that was left was to write. He rationalized that his stalling was due to the setting, yet his pencil hovered on a relatively clean page.

_ Never Alone _

A simple message that was often forgotten during times of hardship. If he started before now, the page would have been filled with enough notes to speak for weeks, much less the hour. The message wasn’t insincere. He didn’t believe it to be so. The goddess was here with him. He was certain of that. And with Flayn healthy, he felt well beyond capable to walk the world with little else. _Yet..._ He pressed himself further.

_When living with the goddess in your heart, she will stay with you always._

Redundant and obvious. He overlaid the sentence with an X and created a new bullet for another start.

_A day—_

“Hello there!” Alois’s voice filled the entire hall with a boisterousness which made Seteth’s pencil leave a mark while it flew across the page and bounced on the rug.

“Good evening,” Seteth said as he knelt and retrieved his pencil.

The captain of the knights chuckled, “I really surprised you? I’m...well, surprised. I always figured you had another pair of eyes hidden in your hair.”

Seteth looked over his ruined page before opting to place the notebook in his coat pocket, “no pair of second eyes, I’m afraid.” Not that they would have done much good staring at the smaller library behind him. “How is your work fairing, Alois? Are the new additions adjusting well with you?”

“I say the new group is fitting in rather swimmingly. Already we have a number of good cooks and hunters in the lot.”

“That will aid us much, considering how many more mouths are needing to be fed.”

“Yes, sir. Old and new soldiers alike are in high spirits, the town throwing a welcome party was a great idea,” he said.

Seteth straightened his coat, “we live in such a kind town, we’re lucky to have it coming back after these difficult years.”

“I heard you were also in high spirits that night too,” he prodded.

Seteth grew glum, “I must have looked like an unabashed fool in front of that crowd.”

Alois didn’t hear him, “brings me back to my youth. You know, I was dancing when I met my wife?”

He picked up his head curiously, “is that so?”

Alois’ boy-like smile transitioned into one more sentimental, “I remember it more than my own birthday, it was the during a harvest festival while I was still a lad. My junior year in the Officer’s Academy, 1152. My class had successfully completed a mission in a nearby village. There I was, showing my buddies the new dance moves I acquired, and then I caught her with the right turn of the head. There she was, as graceful as the loveliest of fairies that I read in my storybooks. Even back then, I wasn’t a shy boy, yet my knees wobbled out of their sockets, my chest squeezed me, it was like the goddess dropped a five-ton boulder over my head,” he exaggerated the movements as he pantomimed his experience.

“What did you do?”

“My friends knew what was going on and had a good laugh. After a bit of teasing, they encouraged me to go over and ask her to dance. ‘Her? Dance with me of all people?’ I thought. Because I know this might surprise you, Seteth, but I wasn’t much of a ladies man,” he said.

Seteth’s face softened, “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“But somehow, someway, I walked to her and after reminding my voice box what its job was, I asked her for a dance. That five-ton boulder turned into a feather as I floated away that night. I even showed off some of my new moves, she laughed so hard that she cried, and soon we were both laughing in the middle of the dance floor as she joined in. The professor threatened to make me sit out the upcoming Academy ball for my ‘outrageous and unprofessional display.’ They didn’t really, but that wouldn’t have mattered for me. That was the third happiest day of my life,” he sighed. “Thirty-three years and a wonderful daughter later, it feels unreal.”

Seteth smiled to himself as he watched the fire, “what a beautiful story.”

Alois gave a puckish tone as he focused on him a moment longer, “is there someone you’re thinking of, that you might have or might have not danced with?”

Seteth shook his head, “such things aren’t meant for me. It was merely a lapse of reason.”

Alois glew, “that’s exactly what it was! And what talk, what do you mean ‘not meant’ for you? Look at you, you’re better off than I was when I proposed. You’re at the prime age to settle down after the war.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“And what relationship isn’t?”

“Yes, you’re correct,” he gave a nod, “...but even looking past that, I’ve been far away from things like...”

Alois continued with his over-optimism, “that’s what you’ve got me for. I’ve known you for well over a decade and—say, how old are you, again?”

“...I’m younger than you.”

Alois threw his head back, “of course you are HAHAHA! Makes me doubly perfect for the role of big brother, don't you think? Sure, you might be all well-read and kept the Knights of Serios taken care of before and after the professor was rediscovered. But you can’t possibly know or experienced how to do _everything_ , and I have lived long enough to know a thing or two to help.”

“I shouldn’t trouble you with something so trivial,” if Alois truly knew him, he’d understand that at this age he _should_ know.

“It’s not trivial to you, is it?”

“It isn’t, at least—“

“Then you’re not troubling me with anything,” he stated simply, “I’m all ears.”

This man was relentless, but he did have fresher knowledge in this realm than himself. “On the side I have been working on another project...and I began developing these emotions for my collaborator. With myself hand waving my thoughts and misreading her own cues, the neglected came tumbling down all at once that night. I fear that I severely damaged what we had and it may be further ruined no matter which direction I decide to pursue.”

Alois scratched his head, “...but she feels the same about you, doesn’t she?”

“It could be a mistake for everyone involved,” Seteth said.

Alois nodded, “most opportunities that get us moving can blow up on our faces. I didn’t make it with my wife knowing that night, that we were going to get married and live happily ever after. She could’ve stopped talking to me the day after and pretended that dance never happened. I remembered being more nervous the day after for that very reason, but I asked her to an actual date before I left back to the Academy. It was worth the shot even if it ended there. The happily ever after is still a work in progress though.”

There was an air that came from Alois that made him jealous and glad in one, “your wife is quite the wealthy woman.”

“I’m quite the wealthy man,” Alois replied with a nudge. He gave a hearty sigh, “ah yes, but you better be good to sweet little Bernadetta or else you’ll be hearing it from me—“

“It’s uh...another artist I’m working with. Bernadetta has told me herself that she sees me as a friend,” Bernadetta was the _last_ person he wanted to drag into any miscommunications.

Alois faced him, “ _two_ artists? Same project?”

“Separate...Bernadetta had started drawing before ever thought to ask. The other, we started our collaboration together.”

Alois laughed from the gut, “the artsy types must be _drawn_ to you!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said self-consciously.

Alois kept the tone consistently positive, “and one of them has _painted_ her way to your heart.”

Seteth shook his head with a light smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fully blaming life on this one. First week of September was me studying for my biggest of three tests (passed, yay!). The second was Mine and mom's Birthday, after that a slew of other family September birthdays and a mountain of other life busyness. Thank you so much for being uber patient and oof 2.6k+ hits. I know that hits=/=readers but oi, just knowing that at least one person cared to check this out 2.6k times is really cool. 
> 
> In this house we stan Alois. Alois, like many 3H characters, is one of those characters I deeply enjoy but rarely have the chance to use him. He's also one of the reasons that I can never get myself to really like Jeralt (there's a ton of reasons to not like him, let's not lie), especially after Alois & Leonie's B support. Alois is loud, annoying, and punny, sure. But he is nothing but pure, unadulterated wholesomeness. Rewatching his supports always make me smile and I love how he makes everyone else smile because "Yeah, he's a loud and not funny guy, but he makes the world happier anyway." And anyone who doesn't love (or at least appreciates) Alois is not cool in my book. I also see Alois being Bernadetta's critique partner because Linhardt is too harsh, then again Alois loves every drawing she does. She only knows to fix it when he misinterprets it. 
> 
> This is not Claude & Seteth's B-support, if anyone was wondering. This almost feels like one of those negative support points haha.
> 
> October is going to be busy for me too since I will be studying (and hopefully taking) my last two tests to get it done. But on the plus side, I'm already prepping for participating in NaNoWriMo so I can focus on cranking out more chapters. I have my roadmap, it's actually getting the execution that I'm thinking about. But I've already hit another milestone in this project: 64K+! I've officially filled an average sized novel, oof. And I'm only in phase 2. ;w; Thank you again so much for y'all's comments and support! I love reading your comments and it always brightens my day to know that y'all are enjoying the story!
> 
> Edit: I saw a Fox itabag and I knew I had to be trash (https://www.instagram.com/p/CGFsuIvjAYa/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link ) I promise my brain isn't 99% Seteth/Hilda. I have other hobbies and interests haha.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank yas for reading, please feel free to comment and give any feedback even if it's just making fun of me. Trust me, I'll get a laugh out of it too.
> 
> I also made a playlist to add to my own personal suffering https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7kpxhAo1VwW8es9VHLDSkn?si=ZZE1F2pATEWYRrBwvmjgbg


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